My Armor
by The-Fickle-Lady
Summary: Sansa is eleven when her powers come in. From then on, her life only succeeds in growing more and more complicated. Mutant!AU
1. Mutant

ASOIAF: Mutant!AU

My Armor

Disclaimer: I OWN NOTHING.

Summary: Sansa is eleven when her powers come in.

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><p>Sansa thinks whoever invented Health class should be hunted down and forced to endure the very gross documentaries they helped create. She doesn't know how many educational films on human reproduction she can take before finally throws herself out the window next to her desk (she's sure she would survive). That's why, when she walks into Health class and sees a TV sitting at the front of the room, hooked up and ready to go, she sends the windows a longing look. Beside her, Jeyne Poole and Beth Cassel groan.<p>

"Not another one!" Jeyne gripes as they make their way toward their usual seats.

"Do eleven year olds really need to know this much about _that_?" Beth asks.

"I don't know," Sansa whispers as she slips into her seat. "But I do know I'm going throw myself out this window in about ten minutes." She says, pointing at the window beside her. Jeyne and Beth laugh, not realizing just how serious Sansa might be.

While Beth discreetly tucks her ear buds in and hides them with her hair and sweatshirt, and Jeyne pulls out a piece of paper and starts doodling, Sansa stares longingly at the outside world. Outside, as usual, the ground is covered with a layer of snow and the sky is an eternal shade of bluish-gray. In the distance, the hills and mountains rise over the city of Wintertown, the capital of the largest state in Westeros, the North.

The bell rings, and their teacher enters the room, locking the door behind him—they say so if some gun-wielding psycho enters the building they'll be safe, but Sansa thinks it's to prevent escapees—and he strides over to the television set at the front of the room. He presses a button, and the blue screen goes black, and a logo pops up on the screen of the production company responsible for the film's creation.

Sansa watches with a dull sense of dread, knowing she has to pay attention because they'll be a test over it later surely. She and everyone else in the room takes out a piece of paper and pencil to take notes. But then, the title of the video rolls up…

**Mutants and You **

Suddenly, the air becomes tension filled in the room. Students exchange looks, and some look down at their desks with embarrassment, while others get a nervous look about them. Sansa feels her middle turn hard and cold with anxiety, and it takes every fiber of her being to make it go away. Beside her, Beth has ripped out her headphones and Jeyne had put away her doodle. The teacher pauses the tape just as a map of Westeros appears on the screen.

"I know this must come as a surprise to you and make you uncomfortable. This is a touchy subject. But you are at the age when those of you who are mutants will have your powers emerge. Or at least start to emerge. My own powers," He says as he levitates a pencil right off the desk of a student in the back of the room. "Didn't come in fully until I was fourteen. Some of you have had powers since you were as young as eight or nine, or even from birth. But a majority of mutants get their powers at age eleven or twelve, so we will be watching this educational video on the subject. So please be mature and take notes." He says and the un-pauses the video.

"_Westeros," _The Video begins in a man's deep monotone. _"A Republic consisting of seven states, with a population of over a billion. Half of which is mutants. What is a mutant you ask?" _Two people appear on the screen, virtually identical except for the differing color of their shirts. "_A mutant is a human with a genetic abnormality that has enabled them to do incredible things. Example..." _One of the people of the screen sprouts wings takes flight. "_Yes, mutants are able to do many amazing things, from fire manipulation to super strength to flight to physic abilities. However, there is a downside to being a mutant." _Once again, a map of Westeros appeared on the screen. Color-coated for their convenience. _"Of the seven states of Westeros, only three have laws guaranteeing the equal rights of mutants. The North, the Vale, and the Storm lands. And while the Reach and Dorne are very excepting of mutants, no laws are in place _assuring _that there will be equal rights for both mutants and humans. In the Crownlands and Westerlands, racism is rampant against mutants, who are treated as second-class citizens, and the Riverlands is an active battle ground between both races over the superiority and inferiority of the other. In the Iron Islands, normals are the ones discriminated against, but no laws there actually guarantee the superiority of either mutants or normals." _The screen zoomed in on the North on the map. _"In the North, mutants and normals have the privilege of being equals in all ways." _It slid down to the Vale. _"The Vale has the lowest population of mutants in the country, so while laws exist to prevent racism, there is still prejudice against the minority of mutants in the region." _The Riverlands appeared next. "_The populations of mutants and normals in the Riverlands are equal in numbers, and have been at odds with one another for decades over which race is the superior of the two in the region." _The Westerlands came into view. _"The Westerlands treats mutants as second-class citizens, and many mutants are of the lower class due to the fact they cannot get better jobs. Many join the military in the Westerlands, which is why it has the second highest percentage of mutants in its armed forces in the country." _The Iron Islands materialized. "_In the Iron Islands, being a mutant is treated as a great honor, while being normal is a disgrace. The Iron Islands only allows mutants in their armed forces, which is why they have the highest percentage of mutants in their armed forces in the country."_ The screen zipped down to the Reach and Stormlands. _"In the Reach and Stormlands, mutants are treated like celebrities, especially if they are very powerful. Normals are still treated just fine, but being a mutant in these regions is like automatically becoming popular." _It slid down to Dorne. _"In Dorne both mutants and normals are treated fine and with equality. The only reasons laws do not exist guaranteeing equality is because no one has seen a need to." _Finally, it slid up to the Crownlands. _"Like in the Westerlands, mutants are second-class citizens in the Crownlands. However, in recent years, some efforts have been made to work towards equality._" The rest of the video is a blur of genetic and scientific terms that Sansa barely registers and diagrams she doesn't quite get. Safety precautions are the last part of the video. Warnings about handling mutants with dangerous powers and how to handle yourself when your powers come in. Then everything fades to black on the screen, and the teacher turns off the TV.

He stands before the room, smiling empathetically. "Now, we have five minutes left in class. And while I know you may be embarrassed, I'd like to ask those of you who have your powers to come up and display them to the class." Of course, only one brave soul was willing to come up. It was boy named Will, and he came up and lifted the teacher his head with the ease of a forklift. There was some polite clapping. Super strength was a very common power among mutants. Statistics even stated at half of mutants had super strength along with some other power.

The bell rang, signaling school was over. Sansa and her friends gathered their things quickly and fled the classroom as if it were on fire. At their lockers, which are all next to one another, Jeyne is the first one to speak up. "Wouldn't it be terrible to be a mutant?" She asks as she struggles to squeeze her healthy textbook inside her locker. Beth shrugs. "Not really. My cousin Jory is a mutant—he has heightened senses and agility. I kind of hope I'm a mutant." She says. "But what about all the racism?" Jeyne asks. "I'll stay in the North, where it's safe." Beth replies easily. "But what if you want to be an actress or go into politics. The center of movie industry is in the Westerlands and the capital is in the Crownlands." Jeyne persists. Beth again just shrugs. "Sansa's dad is a politician and he's a mutant, right Sans?" She says, turning to Sansa. Sansa simply nods.

The Starks have been known for their ice powers for generations, ever since mutants started appearing three hundred years ago. To this day, scientist still don't know what caused the sudden appearance of the mutants across the globe, all they know is it that it changed life as we knew it forever. It started with the Targaryens, a family of fire wielders, who used their powerful mutant powers to take over the entire continent. They ruled for nearly three hundred years until fourteen years ago, the revolution happened and Westeros became a republic.

War heroes like her father and Robert Baratheon had become icons for mutants. They were treated like superheroes out of the comics—some comic book heroes were even based on them—and since the revolution, great strides had been made in mutant-equality all over the continent. Despite the protests of families like the Lannisters who had considered themselves pure of genetic "defects" until the birth of Tyrion Lannister and the Faith of the Seven which frowned upon mutant powers as being abominations against the Gods. Still, it didn't make Sansa feel any better about…

She closed her locker a little harder than probably needed. Her eyes widened at the sight of a little dent in the door where her hand had been. She glanced at Beth and Jeyne, who thankfully were still absorbed by their little debate, and hoped they wouldn't notice. When they were done and closed their own lockers, they hooked their arms together and made their way towards the front entrance to the school.

Through out the school, there were plenty of signs of mutants on the premises. The North did have the third highest population of mutants in the country. A girl flew right over head of them towards the front entrance of the school, gliding over everyone with ease and giggling when she snatched the hat right off a boy's head. The boy, however, stretched his legs like rubber so he stood as tall she could fly, and ripped it out of her hands. She stuck her tongue out at him as he shrank back down to his original height. Sansa watched with disgust, however, as then the boy's hand stretched up the hallway, looping around people and between legs, to grope a girl's bottom. The girl jerked with surprise and whirled around, eyes glowing golden. The boy's elastic hand jerked back so fast to his arm that it must have given him whiplash because he fell back on his butt. The girl whose butt he grabbed gave a wave of her hand as she glared at him, and the entire hallway of students found themselves suddenly shoved over to the walls, leaving only the girl and elasta-boy in the middle of it. With another wave of her hands, a elasta-boy's stretchy limbs started stretching all by their selves, twisting and knotting, and the boy shouted and pleaded, but the girl only smirked at him as she turned him into a human pretzel.

When she was done, she smiled, satisfied, and walked away with the strut of a model right out the doors of the school. Suddenly, the force that had been holding everyone to the walls disappeared and the boy unknotted. His friends rushed to his side and started carrying him towards the nurse's office, which was just down the hall. Beside her, Sansa heard Beth and Jeyne giggle. "Serves him right," Beth says as she steps away from the wall. "I wish I could do that to some handsy guy someday. I'm sure my dad would be happy about it." Jeyne says. "Right, Sansa?" She asks. Sansa nods and laughs as well. "Yeah, my brothers would be really happy about it." She says.

They exit the building, and outside, it's even more of a scene. Sansa sees students, mostly upper classmen from the high school part of the building, messing around with their powers. Mostly boys trying to impress girls or their friends. She sees Theon Greyjoy over by the fountain, using his water powers to spray any geek who dares come close with freezing cold water. She rolls her eyes at him. Next to the Iron Islander is her brother Robb, whose simply using his wind powers to mess with a paper airplane, making it do loops in the air and go higher than any paper airplane ever dared before. Jon is nearby, sitting under a tree, brooding obviously if the growing frost around him is any indication. The tree he's sitting under is almost completely white with ice.

"Your brothers have the coolest powers," Beth says as they approach Robb. The boys are supposed to walk them home. "I hope if I get powers, I get an elemental power like them!" She exclaims. Jeyne nods her agreement. "Me, too! Only I'd want to be able to grow plants, like a Tyrell! What power would you want, Sansa?" She asks with a big smile. Sansa wishes she could reply honestly. That she doesn't want powers at all. She wants to be normal like her mom and not have to deal with all the problems that come with being a mutant. Instead, she puts on a smile for her friends and replies, "Plant powers, definitely." Jeyne gives giddy smile, and then goes off rambling about all the cool things they could do if they had the same powers. Beth joins in with details about what her theoretical water/air/earth/fire powers could do, too. Sansa listens politely.

"Hey, kiddos, ready to go?" Theon asks in his condescending manner when they come to stand before him and Robb. "We're not kids," Jeyne protests with crossed arms and an up-turned nose. Theon snorts. "Yeah, come tell me that when your backpack doesn't have a cartoon character on it, and you get rid of those bows." He says, and Jeyne scowls at him. Theon and Robb laugh at her pride. "Come on," Robb say taking Sansa's hand in his. "We gotta go pick up Arya and Bran." Robb calls for Jon, who stands up and follows them to the curb.

They cross the street with the help of a crossing guard and journey down the street where they turn a corner. The boys walk ahead of the girls, Robb and Jon occasionally looking back to make sure they aren't falling behind. They're approaching the next curb when Sansa feels the lace of her boot come undone. She stops and stoops down to retie, and at first everyone stops to wait on her, but she tells them to go on. They shrug and walk on, sure she'll catch up in a moment. But Sansa's boot strings refuse to retie correctly, and she watches her brother, friends, and Theon cross the street without her and slowly disappear down the road. She'll have to run to catch up to them.

She starts to panic when it looks like they're getting close to the next curb, where she knows they'll turn and disappear out of sight. Hastily, Sansa stuffs the laces into her boots, hoping to just tie them later while they're waiting on Arya and Bran to exit the elementary school. She climbs to her feet hurriedly and sprints for the crossing, shouting, "Wait! Robb, Jon! Wait up!" They turn back just as she runs into the open street, stopping at the curb to wait on her. Sansa is relieved for a moment.

_HONK! HONK!_

She whirls around to face the other end of the street, and freezes when she sees a black van barreling towards her. She hears more honking, her brothers and friends screaming. But she's frozen where she stands in the middle of the street. She holds up her arms to cover her face and shuts her eyes tightly. Suddenly her whole body becomes cold and hard.

The impact of van against her isn't how she expected it. Instead of sending her flying or over the roof of the vehicle, she feels something hard pressed against her front, and her heels drag against the street. She hears the tires of the car shriek and what maybe asphalt being ripped up from the street. She's sure she hears bending metal. They're going really fast, and she can feel herself being pushed backwards, but eventually they slow down, the noises disappear, and her back hits the street with a clink.

Sansa just lays there for a moment, wondering when the pain will start, but she doesn't feel anything but that cold hardness all over her body. Her arms fall away from her face finally, and she hears the lightest clink of metal. She lets out a shuddering breath. The cold hardness starts to disappear in some places, starting with her face. Her head and torso return to normal, and part of her arms and legs as well, but Sansa's hands still feel weird and so do her feet and other parts of her body.

She hears hurried footsteps approaching, people shouting her name, and she wants to cry because she knows it's her brothers and friends. She opens her eyes and begins to sit up just as they appear running around the van, which is steaming and the driver is climbing out, looking dizzy. Robb and Jeyne fall to their knees next to her, asking if she's alright, and Theon is on his phone, probably 911, while Jon is with the driver of the van, giving her worried looks over his shoulder.

"I'm fine, Robb." She tells her brother as she attempts to sit up further, but he presses her back to lay on the ground. "You don't know that! You could have internal bleeding, broken bones, or a concussion!" Robb shouts. "And what were you thinking!? Running into the street without looking, Sansa, you know better!" Sansa looks away guiltily. "I'm sorry," She whispers. "But I feel fine, I swear." Sansa protests. And she's not just saying it. She really does feel fine, besides the cold, hard parts of her body which she hopes aren't visible. She's thankful for the cloves covering her hands.

Robb looks about ready to protest when his expression of worry suddenly falters into one of bewilderment. He reaches out and places a hand against her cheek. "I'm fine," Sansa repeats, and this time, Robb nods. "You're…You're fine." He says, and never has Sansa seen the fourteen year old look so dumbstruck. Jeyne gives Robb a confused look for a moment, but then she looks at her as well and her eyes grow wide as dish plates. Theon, who's been on the phone, even stops and stares down at her, as do Jon and the driver of the car. Sansa wonders for one horrible moment if she's been terribly disfigured.

"What are you looking at?" She asks, sitting up. Jeyne rummages around in her backpack, her eyes never leaving Sansa's face, and pulls out a compact mirror. She hands it to Sansa, who flips it open, expecting the worst. But all she finds it her reflection staring back at her worriedly, nothing wrong except her red hair was askew. "I don't get it. What are you all staring at?" Sansa asks, climbing to her feet finally and backing away slightly from their astonished expressions.

Then Beth tugs on hers and Robb's sleeves and points at the front of the van. Everyone turns and looks for the first time to inspect the damage. Their jaws drop. The front of the van looks over like it crashed into a telephone pole rather than a person, and in the street, for the first time Sansa notices where her feet had been, there were the ends of two long drag marks in the concrete asphalt. She looks at the back heels of her boots and finds them worn down to point she can see her frayed socks, and her jeans are torn to shreds as well. For the first time, she looks down at her front, and her jacket is a tattered mess, too. She can even find some of its fabric in the remains of the front of the van.

Sansa looks up at everyone, and they're staring at her. She feels her face heat up, and all she wants to do is run away. And she tries, but Robb catches her by the arm and pulls her back against his chest. She struggles there for a moment, but then goes limp in his arms. Besides, Jon would have frozen her feet to the road before she could get ten feet away. Robb turns her around and forces her to look him in the eye.

"Sansa…are you a mutant?" He asks as gently as possible, and she can feel Jeyne and Beth looking at her with betrayal and confusion. She can see Jon's concerned eyes and Theon's curious ones. Sansa feels tears spring to her eyes as she nods. "Yes." She says, her voice breaking. "I'm a mutant."

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><p><strong>AN: The plot bunny just simply refused to die, and I eventually saw some other super hero AU fics around, so I was like, sure, I'll give it a go!**

**I may add more chapters later.**

**Tell me what ya think, please! **


	2. Doors

ASOIAF: Mutant!AU

My Armor

Disclaimer: I Own Nothing.

Summary: Sansa is eleven when her powers come in.

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><p>A man comes in a white van on Friday and installs all new hinges and doorknobs throughout the Stark house. They're specially made so that mutants with super strength, especially young ones who are just learning to get a handle on their new found abilities, don't rip doors off their hinges when entering a room. Sansa had already done so twice in three days.<p>

After the car incident, it seemed whatever Sansa had subconsciously been holding back had sprang to the surface. In the three days since she had been hit by a car, Sansa had accidentally ripped her bedroom door, her bathroom door, and the back door off their hinges. She'd also ripped Arya's doorknob right out of the door when she had gone to tell her that dinner was ready.

To say that Sansa was completely mortified was understatement.

Of all the Stark kids to get super strength, it had to be her, didn't it? Sansa never wanted super powers…not really. The thought had crossed her mind occasionally, but in the end, life as a normal always appealed to her more. After watching Robb, Jon, and Theon go through not only normal puberty, but _mutant _puberty, and hearing her father's stories about the awkwardness and harsh realities he faced growing up a mutant in the Vale, Sansa had decided being normal sounded a whole lot better. And besides, Sansa wanted to be like Cersei Lannister.

Cersei Lannister was the first born daughter of the former noble house of Lannister, back before the revolution. After the revolution, social norms for nobility were flipped on their heads and many took advantage of it, including Cersei, who'd become an actress and model. It was easy for normals to get jobs in show biz—it was for mutants too, but usually they were just stuntmen or played monsters in horror movies—because you didn't have to worry about working around a set of wings or scaly skin, or about a diva tantrum resulting in causalities.

Sansa wanted to be an actress like Cersei one day…but now that she had been very publicly outed as a mutant, her chances of ever being more than a novelty had dwindled considerably.

Then again, Sansa knew she shouldn't have gotten her hopes up about _not _turning out a mutant. Her parents had been warning her and her siblings for as long as she could remember about the possibilities of them waking up one morning and having a tail or being able to make burritos explode with their eyeballs.

And the Starks had been host to a number of mutants for centuries. Ice powers, such as her father's and Jon's, were the most common, but Sansa could remember Dad talking about his siblings and father's powers. Brandon had had the standard super strength and speed package, which was actually pretty indistinctive among mutants, but could still be pretty interesting. Lyanna had been able to pause time for brief periods. A few minutes or so, and would use it to get in all sorts of trouble. Benjen had a psychic ability; he could track anyone by sensing out their energies, which made him a great ranger beyond the Wall. He was like a spiritual bloodhound.

Her siblings all had powers, too. Robb had his wind powers. Jon, Dad's ice powers. Arya had this thing that Theon had dubbed, "Shadow powers". She could disappear into a mass of shadows that would float up from out of nowhere and envelope her, and then she'd reappear up to a half mile away from some dark corner. It was the perfect ability to sneak around with. Bran was a psychic. Ever since his accident, he'd been able to see the future. His visions were sporadic and a prophetic quality to them where sometimes they were hard to interpret, but they always happened. Sansa wondered if he saw her powers coming, or the car crash. Finally, there was Rickon, who'd had his powers practically since birth. When he had been born, in the night, he had sprouted fur and fangs and claws, started howling and whining like a puppy, and generally scared the shit out of half the hospital staff. Since then, everyone made sure to keep their doors locked at night in case Rickon went wolf-puppy and went on a little rampage.

Sansa wished that her powers would have come in at birth. Maybe then she wouldn't have had any dreams crushed. But no, instead, she got hers when she was eleven. Two months ago, in fact. She'd been riding her bike with Jeyne and Beth, to a park just a few blocks away from Winterfell—even before the revolution, the Starks had resided at Winterfell, and for the last few decades, their home had been a government building, home the state legislature, a court of law, and a prison for criminals to be locked up in until they were transferred to a real facility, like Dreadfort or the one up on the Wall. The Starks resided in what could best be described as the residential part of the building. It was like a mansion, and their servants, like the Cassel's and Poole's, lived with them in their own apartments on the grounds—the park had been only a block away when Sansa fell off her bike. She didn't know what happened then to make her fall, and she didn't know now either. All she knew was that she went tumbling to the sidewalk, barely catching herself on her hands and knees.

She hadn't worn any pads, or even a helmet, because lets face it, no kid does, so she expected to feel the sting on scrapes on her knees and hands. But instead, just like after the car crash when she let her arms fall to her sides, she heard a metallic clink as her knees and hands made contact with the ground. When she looked at her, expecting to find a cut or redness, what she did find made her gasp and nearly scream.

Her hands, at least the palms, had been silver, as if covered I metal, and when she felt her left palm with the back of her right hand—because, she realized with horror, she couldn't feel anything with her silver palms—it had been as cold and smooth as metal. She rolled up her pants legs to look at her knees, and they were silver as well. She heard Jeyne and Beth, who had been ahead of her, call back and ask if she was okay. Hesitantly, she shouted she was. She rolled her pants and got back on her bike, desperately hoping that what she had just seen was her imagination.

And perhaps it had been, she had thought when later at the park, she looked at her hands to find them pink and soft, as hands should be. But alas, throughout the last two months, Sansa had experienced the same thing as what happened on the bike happen a million times. Every time she tripped and fell, knocked against something or flinched with fear at being harmed, she'd look down and see her skin having turned to silvery metal, or feel a cold hardness somewhere under her clothes. Cold and hardness, that's all she could feel when her skin turned on her.

She hated it.

But what she hated more was how her family had found out about her powers. The car wreck incident was a million times worse then the incidents that had clued in the rest of the family into Robb, Jon, and Theon's powers. With Robb, he had been in a fight at school when he was about Sansa's age. According to Jon and Theon, everyone had panicked, thinking a tornado was coming or something, because suddenly the whole school was full of violent gusts of wind that whipped through everything causing utter mayhem. The wind finally and only died down after Robb had decked the dude he'd been fighting with and knocked him out. The calm had been almost instant, and everyone figured out very quickly what had caused the odd occurrence.

With Jon, who had been ten when his powers came in, he had gotten a cold that had been going around had come down the first morning of his ailment for breakfast, taken his usual seat, and right as his plate of waffles was set before him, he'd sneezed. The entire breakfast table and its occupants had ended up covered in a layer of frost.

Theon, who'd come to them at ten, was thirteen when his powers came in. From what Sansa could gather, he'd been banging on the bathroom door for about fifteen minutes, shouting for Jon to get the Hell out so he could take a shower and brush his teeth. Then all of a sudden, the whole of Winterfell started shaking, and simultaneously ten wipers all over Winterfell burst, including the ones in the bathroom Jon had been in. The boy had emerged from the bathroom bedraggled and irritated, ready to ring Theon's throat.

Even Bran and Arya's powers had come in pretty low-key. With Bran, his visions simply started happening after his accident. With Arya, she had been eight and simply started disappearing and reappearing in shadows, usually when she was in trouble or didn't want to do as she was told.

Being hit by a car was not a great way for your family to learn you're a freak whose skin could turn to metal—steel, as Maester Luwin had discovered when he examined her after the crash—and possessed super strength.

"She won't be ripping anymore doors off their hinges, Mr. Stark. You can bet your life on that." The installation guy had said as he screwed in the hinges for the front doors. Sansa felt her father pat her on the back. "I'm sure she won't. Besides, she'll learn to control her powers in time." He said, and Sansa forced a smile. The installation guy simply chuckled. "Hard to believe such a pretty little girl could rip me limb from limb if she wanted. I have two brothers with super strength. That's what they used to tell me they'd do to me if I didn't stay out of their rooms." He looked at her and smiled wickedly. "Just tell those little siblings of yours that, Miss, and I'm sure they'll never bother you again. Not after seeing what you can do to a door, I'm sure." The installation guy and her father laughed, and Sansa smiled some more before whispering her goodbyes and thank you's, and excusing herself. She headed for the kitchens downstairs, where she found her mother talking to the cooks about something, Robb, Jon, and Theon ransacking the snack cabinet, and Arya and Bran enjoying an after school snack at one of the tables.

"What's up, Metallica?" Arya greeted her upon seeing her. Sansa stuck her tongue out at her as she passed and went for the fridge. "Nothing, Shadow Dweller." She whispered back. "Did that guy finish installing all the door hinges yet?" Robb asked, his arms loaded down with several bags of chips. "Yeah, I'd like to be able to shut my door now." Jon said as he struggled to hold all the snack cakes in his arms. "Bet I know why." Theon whispered with a wicked smirk. Jon elbowed him in the stomach, making him drop the box of cookies he had been holding.

"Yeah." Sansa answered. "I won't be taking anymore doors off their hinges, it seems." She said as she opened the fridge door. She let out a screech at the heavy door—though it felt astonishingly light—lurched and fell backwards and to the floor. With a loud thud, every set of eyes in the kitchen was on her.

"Missed one." Theon said with a cruel smile.

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><p><strong>AN: I hope you liked this. **

**I'm not very good at world-building, so I just want to clarify that before the revolution, being a noble in Westeros was like being a noble in England is today. It's just kind of a title and you didn't have any real power, though a lot of the families are still very rich in this world after the revolution. Just to clarify.**

**Hope you liked it, and please review. **


	3. Powers 101

ASOIAF: Mutant!AU

My Armor

Disclaimer: I Own Nothing.

Summary: Sansa is eleven when her powers come in.

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><p>Powers 101. Sansa looked at the bold black letters on the door with despair for several minutes before sighing and mentally—and hopefully not physically—bracing herself to enter the room full of young unstable new mutants. She wasn't sure, however, if any amount of preparations, mental or otherwise, would help her.<p>

Powers 101 was a mandatory class for all mutants. It usually replaced extracurricular activities or classes like art or gym on students' schedules when it was added. Sansa herself had been forced to drop her music class for the rest of the year in favor of taking it. She, like many before her, had tried to get out of it, going as far as getting on her hands and knees before her parents to ask them to pull some strings with the school to get her out of the class. Alas, they had put their feet down and sternly said that she, like Robb, Jon, and Theon before her, would have to take the class like every other mutant in the country when the new semester started. Sansa, not for the first time, wished she had gotten her powers at birth or in elementary school. Younger kids didn't have to take Powers 101 at all. They just got put into special all mutant classes up until reaching middle school, at which point they would have probably mastered their powers on their own and didn't need to take Powers 101 in middle school or high school.

Her little brothers and sister didn't know how lucky they were.

Sansa entered the classroom as quietly as its thick, solid-metal door would allow. She looked at the gigantic dents on the other side of it as she entered and closed it shut behind her and felt all hope of the class not being as horrible as its reputation leave her system. Powers 101 had an awful rep around the school. Everyone who had ever been in it had always had three complaints about it—atop many others as well, but three always particularly stuck out to Sansa.

One, it was a death trap. Yes, Powers 101 was known for having at least one explosion take place within its four highly insulated walls a week. If there was no explosion one week, the odds were that some other, more quiet but just as destructive episode had taken place that week instead. One kid had been frozen solid once. They had to thaw him out with hairdryers and a flamethrower at the nearest hospital. It took nearly 18 hours and the kid nearly died; the kid who froze him ended up being sent to a military school up near the Wall—Sansa's father had said the kid was lucky he hadn't been sent to the actual Wall instead, otherwise he might have learned just how that boy he attacked felt trapped inside that ice.

Two, the teacher was scary as the Seven Hells combined. One thing that Theon had never ceased to complain about during his tenure in Powers 101 was the teacher. He was not alone in that sentiment. Mr. Bolton was a former noble from a noble house in the North. He had moved from Dreadfort, his home, back when nobility was abolished, before Sansa was even born, and had become a teacher. His strict methods and ability to scare mutants powerful enough at twelve to kill him into wetting themselves at the sound of his surprisingly soft voice had quickly made him into a living legend around the school. His teaching methods were also notably unusual. He was often remarked by former students to teach them as if he were training dogs. Carrot and stick method some called it. Sansa knew for certain she would vhy for the carrot and try to avoid the stick. The stick had almost as bad a reputation as the class.

Three, the other students. Everyone who had ever been in Powers 101, ironically, had always complained at one point that everyone else in their class—besides themselves, of course—was either a smug bastard about their powers, whether they be cool or lame, or was so incompetent with them that it stopped being funny after day one and just became sad and annoying. Sansa looked down briefly at her hands as she sat down at a desk in the middle row of the classroom.

That morning, while eating breakfast, a maid has dropped a glass and it had shattered to pieces on the floor. The loud crash it made had made Sansa, as well as her siblings and parents, jump a little in their seats. Sansa had been the only one, however, to turn to steel wrist to elbow, ankle to knee. Her entire family and the staff in the dining room had stared at her with wide eyes. Sansa had felt humiliated.

Jon, Robb, and Theon's powers didn't act up at the sound of a loud noise. They were older and could actually control themselves. Nothing turned to ice at the breakfast table, the water didn't suddenly shoot out of their glasses and into the air, and a wind didn't whip through the room and mess up anyone's hair or send the napkins flying. Not even Arya, Bran, or Rickon's powers acted up. Arya didn't suddenly disappear into a cloud of shadows and reappear in the dungeons, Bran didn't go into vision mode, and Rickon didn't spit up any fur balls. Of course her father didn't suddenly go all mutant either.

Only Sansa. Only she did, and not for the first time, she felt very alone.

Father and Mother seemed to understand that. Mother gave a Sansa sympathetic look and reached across the table to place her hand over her daughter's, but Sansa could hardly feel it. It was there, she could tell, but she felt no warmth or softness. Sansa wasn't comforted by the gesture. Father had simply said Powers 101 would help her get a handle on things. Meanwhile, Rickon poked her silvery skin with his fork until it slowly crept backwards to her finger tips from where it originated.

Mr. Bolton entered the classroom not a minute after the bell rang, and as the metal door closed behind him, the classroom fell into eerie silence. As Mr. Bolton's eyes scanned the room, Sansa felt herself sink into her chair, completely forgetting her etiquette lessons about posture. "Seven." Mr. Bolton said softly. "Hm…I was expecting more. This is the smallest class I have had in some time." He said, taking a seat at his desk. He began shuffling some papers. "Well, no matter." He said with finality, picking up a single folder and standing up again. He took his rightful place at the podium at the front of the room. "All that means is this will be much easier…unless, of course," He said, his creepy eyes sweeping over the classroom again, as if searching for something. "one of you plans on making this more difficult than it has to be." Everyone in the room shook their heads, Sansa included. "Good." Mr. Bolton said, opening the folder in front of him.

"Now onto attendance," He said, and he slipped on a pair of reading glasses he had had folded up and tucked away in the pocket of his grey blazer. Running a finger down the list, he began calling off surnames, to which people raised their hands and replied with a quiet "present" or "here". Sansa's name was the last on the list. "Present." She replied when he said her name. He looked up then from the folder and regarded her with slight curiosity. "Another Stark, I see. I have to say, I thought I wouldn't have another one your brood in my class for a long time. But it seems I was wrong." Mr. Bolton said, slipping off his glasses and tucking them away again. "I won't lie. I was fairly convinced you would be a normal like your mother." Sansa shifted uncomfortably. "So was I, sir." She replied uneasily, though she wasn't surprised really by his words.

Mr. Bolton knew her family and had been over to dinner at Winterfell in the past, seeing as he was not only a former-noble of the North like her father, but also the teacher of her older brothers. She remembered the awkward affairs rather well, mostly because Rickon and Arya were uncharacteristically quiet throughout them and Robb, Jon, and Theon were thoroughly nervous sitting so close to their creepy teacher. A dreadful thought suddenly struck Sansa: her parents would most likely invite Mr. Bolton to yet another dinner now.

Mr. Bolton flipped a page in the folder in front of him and picked up a red pen. Pushing down the top, Mr. Bolton looked up and announced, "We will now being doing introductions. I will call your names at random and you will come to the front of the room and display your power or powers to the best of your ability. If you cannot display your power, than please explain what your abilities are to the class in detail. Any questions?" Everyone was quiet at first before a hand in the second row went in the air. "Yes, Mr. Acker?" The boy's hand went down. "Why at random?" He asked. "To keep you on your toes." Mr. Bolton answered, though Sansa's ears distinctly heard, 'To mentally torture those of you who I can tell just by looking at you that you can't control your powers well if at all so I can relish every moment you are dreading and internally panicking over your impending turn.'

"Now, if there are no more questions, let us begin." With baited breath, Sansa watched his finger roam up and down the short list, hovering over each of their names, before finally letting his finger fall upon one unfortunate soul's name on the roster. "Mr. Croft." Mr. Bolton spoke. Hesitantly, a boy with mousy brown hair stood in the back of the classroom and made his way to the front. "I actually prefer Ned, sir." He whispered to Mr. Bolton when he stood beside the podium. "Mr. Croft, do you really believe I care?" Mr. Bolton replied, not once looking up from scribbling something on the class roster. Ned gaped at Mr. Bolton at first, but made the wise decision of saying nothing more. Mr. Bolton sat his pen down then and looked up at the class. "Though you do raise a point." He said, and Ned perked up some beside him. "I will me addressing none of you by your first names while you are in my class." Ned's face fell. "So don't bother correcting me on what nickname you would prefer I call you by. Understood?" Everyone nodded their heads silently. "Excellent. You may now begin, Mr. Croft."

Ned nodded and held up his hands. He flexed his fingers once, then twice, and finally, on the third flex, there was an electric crackle in the air around his hands, and green light began to envelope them. Everyone stared in amazement, having never seen a power quite like it before. Mr. Bolton, however, who stood at the podium with his pen at the ready to write down what Ned's power was, looked unimpressed. "Mr. Croft, does that light actually do anything, or are your hands just glorified glow sticks?" He asked. Ned flushed. "They do something, sir," He said, and then he stepped towards an empty desk at the front of room. His glowing hands descended upon it. Sansa shut her eyes, expecting an explosion of some kind. But she heard nothing but gasps of amazement from her fellow classmates. She opened her eyes to see Ned's hands not _on _the desk, but in them. Leaning down and a bit over like some of her classmates, Sansa saw that Ned's glowing hands has phased right through the wood. Smiling, Ned removed his hands from the desk, leaving not a scratch behind. Everyone clapped. Mr. Bolton gave a nod of approval. "Excellent self-control." He said, writing down what he had just witnessed beside Ned's name on the class roster.

The next student called was a girl Sansa recognized as being one of Jon and Robb's classmates. She must have been a Late Bloomer. Late Bloomers were mutants who didn't get their powers until they were fifteen or sixteen years old, and usually it had something to do with health problems or simply being a late bloomer in regards to regular puberty as well. If Sansa had to wager a guess, she'd say the girl, Miss Hilliam as Mr. Bolton called her, simply hadn't quite hit puberty until recently. She looked more like a middle schooler like Sansa than a high schooler.

Hilliam's power required outside assistance to display. She asked for someone to please throw something at her. A boy in the second row was a bit too eager to comply and hurled a hefty textbook at her. Hilliam flinched at first and her hands instinctively went up to block the projectile. The textbook was thrown back by an invisible force within inches of Hilliam's body and hit the boy in the second row's head instead, sending him falling backwards in his chair. Croft, Sansa, and another girl couldn't restrain their laughter and Hilliam grinned triumphantly at the front of the room. "Force field; how practical." Mr. Bolton commented as Hilliam returned to her seat.

"Next, Miss Stark." He announced, and Sansa's laughter caught in her throat. She took a deep breath before standing. The cold hardness began encroaching on her middle as she grew more nervous with each step she took towards the front of the classroom, where all eyes would be on her. When she got there, she looked back at her peers wondering what they expected of her. Ice powers like her family was famous for? Wind powers like Robb? Maybe something girly, like physic powers (she didn't quite understand why people thought those kinds of powers were girly. No one had ever really explained it).

"Well, Miss Stark," Mr. Bolton spoke after a moment. "Are you going to display your powers, or am I going to have to take word-of-mouth?" He asked. Sansa swallowed and shook her head. "No, sir, I just need someone to…throw something at me, I suppose." The boy in the second row held up his textbook once again, but Hilliam, who sat behind him, snatched it out of his grasp and gave him a reprimanding look. "No, that's okay." Sansa said, and Hilliam and the boy both gave her a confused look. "Trust me, I'll be fine." She assured Hilliam, who then hesitantly handed the book back to the boy.

The boy hurled the textbook at her with a dubious expression as everyone else in the room watched on curiously. Sansa shut her eyes and braced herself for impact. Within a split second, the cold hardness of her abdomen spread all over the rest of her body. The book hit her with a metallic clang, but she didn't feel an ounce of pain. The room was silent. No clapping, no gasps. Sansa grew even more nervous. Reluctantly, she opened her eyes to see everyone staring at her with wide eyes. Looking down at herself, she could see why. Her arms were completely covered in silver, and she could feel her neck and face were as well, and reaching up to touch her own hair and examining it herself, she discovered that even it had turned to steel. It made her sad to know that even beautiful auburn her hair was concealed by her 'armor' as her father called it.

Taking several deep breaths, Sansa willed the steel away as much as she could. Her arms and head went back to normal, though her torso and legs didn't feel right, not that anyone needed to know that. When she was done, only then did people begin to clap politely. "My, how unique." Mr. Bolton said. "I haven't seen that one before. Though there was a lad a few years ago who could turn to stone, and a girl who could liquefy. Now, if you're quite done, Miss Stark, please return to your seat." Sansa idled a moment and Mr. Bolton looked at her again with a raised eyebrow. "Do you have another power to display?" He asked, and Sansa slowly nodded, but then shook her head. "Only super strength. I don't think I need to display that though. I mean, it's not like anyone here doesn't see it everyday in the hallways or in gym class when Coach Mollens decides to bench press students." She explained. Mr. Bolton nodded and she watched him jot something down on the roster. "Right you are. Now take your seat." He said.

Sansa retook her seat silently and Mr. Bolton called out the next name: Ogden. The boy in the second row stood up and walked to the front of the room with a bounce in his step. Then, once there, with a maniac grin, the fiery redhead proceeded to use his finger tips to blast the bust of Baelor the Blessed in the back of the room to smithereens and utterly destroy what remained of an already suspiciously charred educational poster hanging on the back wall. Ogden ended up returning to his seat with a detention.

The next name was Flint, the only other girl in the class besides Sansa and Hilliam. She shuffled to the front of the room and whispered something to Mr. Bolton, who nodded, before returning to her seat with a blush. She must not have been able to control her powers yet, Sansa figured.

Acker went next. He practically skipped to the back of the room. There, he toed off his socks and shoes, rolled up his sleeves, and got into a sprinter's starting position. He took off down the middle aisle of the room, zipping right past Sansa's seat. She worried for a half a second he'd face plant into the blackboard. But he didn't. Instead, he leapt at the wall and when his hands and feet met it, he stuck there, like some sort of bug. Everyone stared in silent surprise and watched with gaping mouths as Acker climbed like a spider up the wall and onto the ceiling. Looking over his shoulder, down at them all, he winked. Sansa honestly was a bit flustered by the gesture.

"That's enough," Mr. Bolton said sternly and Acker climbed down from the ceiling wordlessly, coming to the back of the room in a bizarre full circle way, and put back on his socks and shoes before returning to his seat.

The last name called was that of a boy who had been sitting rather meekly in the corner of the room so far: Yoxall. He made his way too the front of the room with his head lowered and hunched shoulders and he displayed his powers without a word. Super strength and duplication. He returned to his seat with his clone, who matched his movements in perfect sync and event sat right next to him, the exact same way. When questioned about this by Mr. Bolton, Yoxall explained he didn't know how to get rid of his duplicates. He just had to wait for them to disappear on their own. Which on average took an hour to a day.

After introductions, Mr. Bolton made a short lecture about doing search on their powers online that night to learn more about them and right a short paper on it, due for tomorrow. Then the bell rang and class was dismissed.

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><p><strong>AN: First update in awhile, but I got inspire finally. Sorry for the long wait. I'm seriously sorry for that! **

**I hope you enjoyed this chapter!**

**Please review!**


	4. Scandal

ASOIAF: Mutant AU

Disclaimer: I Own Nothing.

Summary: Sansa is eleven when her powers come in.

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><p>Sansa was in the middle of doing a paper for Mr. Bolton's class on the issue of mutant civil rights and its relation to the various mutant powers in the world when her bedroom door was suddenly ripped open and Jeyne and Beth ran in and started dragging her out of her chair. With a shriek of surprise, Sansa clawed at her desk to keep from being yanked backwards. For her trouble, she ended up splintering the wood and the sickening crunch sound and flurry of splinters caused Beth and Jeyne scream and release their grips. Falling backwards in her chair, the back of Sansa's head clinked as it hit the floor. She gave her friends an annoyed look.<p>

"_Why_?" is all she could muster with a frown.

Jeyne cowered behind Beth as the taller girl explained, "We were watching TV in Jory's apartment—he has that big screen TV, ya know, with all those extra channels too—and we were flipping through the channels after the newest episode of Life After Nobility—great episode by the way; Tyrion Lannister snarked everyone's pants off—" "Doesn't that happen every episode?" "Yes, but that's not the point. Anyways, me and Jeyne were channel surfing when we ran across that Westerlands tabloid news network and they were covering this breaking news story out of Lannisport. You'll never guess, Sansa. Cersei Lannister finally revealed who Joffrey's father is!" Beth exclaimed. Sansa scrambled to her feet with wide eyes.

"What!?" Sansa cried. Beth and Jeyne nodded enthusiastically in unison.

Sansa didn't know what to think or do. This had to be the biggest story of the year! A few years after the rise of republic and her career as an actress began, Cersei Lannister had given birth to a son whose father she refused to name. That son was Joffrey Hill, one of the biggest child actors in the nation, and he was Sansa's celebrity crush.

He had starred in a number of movies since he was a toddler and even got discovered on the set of one of Cersei's earliest big movies. Since hitting puberty, he had been nothing short of a teen heart throb, especially since his latest movie The Lion Prince, the first movie in the Golden Kingdom Trilogy had come out last year. He played the part of the young handsome Prince Leonard who was just beginning his journey to becoming the great hero the war torn Golden Kingdom needed. It was Sansa's favorite movie; she loved it so much she was actually reluctant to watch the second movie when it came out in a few months because Joffrey wouldn't be in it, seeing as there was a significant time skip between the first and second movies and Joffrey was only twelve and despite being tall for his age, could not pass for eighteen. Still, even if Sansa was an avid lover of the books the movies were based off of, she was sure she would be perfectly okay with the movies removing the time skip from the movies if it meant Joffrey would be in The Quest for Bright Roar.

Sansa knew everything about Joffrey Hill. His birthday, his favorite foods, hobbies, who he hang out with, and even his shoe size. But one thing that Sansa didn't know, that no one besides Cersei Lannister and her family knew, was who his father was.

"Who? Who?" Sansa asked in a high pitched squeal, jumping up and down in excitement.

Beth and Jeyne grinned ear to ear. "You'll never guess." Beth said.

"It totally floored us!" Jeyne added.

"Just tell me!" Sansa pleaded with frustration, though she continued to grin excitedly.

"Robert Baratheon!" Beth and Jeyne exclaimed in unison.

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><p>Sansa stormed into her father's office, Jeyne and Beth right behind her, a mere minute after the girl's exclamation. "Father, Father, is it true?" Sansa shouted as she jerked to a sudden stop in front of his desk. It was all she could manage before she started panting like a Direwolf left out in the Dornish sun. Sansa wouldn't lie: she was not in the best shape for a girl her age. I need to get more exercise, she thought dismally as she tried to catch her breath.<p>

Behind his desk, Eddard Stark was sending his daughter and her friends a reprimanding stare as he spoke to someone on the phone. Sansa felt a twist of shame in her gut for having just barged into her father's office so abruptly. Her mother had taught her better. "Yes, that sounds alright, Wyman…Yes, but next week is an unreasonably long wait. If you could finish the report by—Excellent, that would be perfect. I will schedule a video conference for three days from now then. Thank you, Wyman, goodbye." With that, Sansa watched her father put down the phone and level her with a disappointed gaze. "Sansa, you know better than to just come waltzing into my office without knocking. How did you even get in? My assistant was supposed to be watching the door." He said sternly with a hint of confusion.

Sansa opened her mouth to answer, but paused when she realized even she didn't have an answer for how they got past Mr. Poole to give. She turned to Jeyne and Beth.

Beth shrugged, but Jeyne piped up an embarrassed explanation: "Dad was watching funny cat videos at his computer again." Eddard Stark heaved a sigh and rubbed his temples.

"Best assistant a man could ask for…but weak to the powers of fluffy kittens playing pianos." He grumbled, shuffling aside a small stack of papers.

Clearing his throat, the Governor of the North gestured for his daughter and her friends' to explain themselves. "Well, it must be important if Sansa of all people has forgotten her manners." He said. "Now what is it, girls?"

Suddenly, all three of the girls became very shy. Sansa hesitated to repeat her original question to her father or elaborate on it. She sent Beth and Jeyne pleading glances over her shoulders, but both her friends shook their heads furiously. Her father smiled at their lot, amused. "I am not a mind reader, girls. Would one of you care to explain why you came here?" He pressed gently. Sansa cleared her throat.

"Well, you might not have heard but Cersei Lannister announced who Joffrey's father is today." She began. Her father looked at her with confusion, and Sansa didn't need to think hard on why. Her father wasn't really that big of a fan of movies or even television. Well, besides the movie adaptations of his favorite childhood comic book superheroes; he loved those even more than Bran and Rickon. Sadly, neither Joffrey nor Cersei had ever set foot on the set of one of those movie adaptations, so the only acknowledgement either had received from Eddard Stark at Winterfell was due to Cersei's last name, not her or her son's work.

"And what does this have to do with me?" Her father asked uncertainly.

Sansa mulled it over a moment, debating how best to break the news to her father, before deciding it was best to be straight-forward with him. Eddard Stark liked straight-forward.

"Daddy, Cersei says Robert Baratheon is Joffrey's father." She spoke softly.

Sansa watched as her father's eyes went wide and his face lost a bit of color one second only to go right back to normal the second after. Well, not completely normal, Sansa noted. He did look somewhat fretful if you knew where to look. Or rather feel. The temperature around her father dropped almost immediately upon her announcement and had yet to rise again. Sansa quickly figured out that her father was trying to take the news well for her sake since Joffrey and Cersei were her favorite celebrities. It made Sansa sad to think her father didn't understand what amazing people Cersei and Joffrey were and why this should be taken as good news because it meant maybe one day the Stark family could meet them for themselves through Uncle Robert. She wisely didn't say anything however and simply waited for her father to respond.

"That's…That's wonderful." He finally said, forcing a smile. Sansa smiled in return.

"Yes, Uncle Robert must be so excited to find out he has a son—or well, another son." Sansa agreed. Her father's mask faltered a moment and he frowned at her words, but he didn't say anything about it.

"Where might I ask did you hear this, girls?" He asked instead.

"On SOTW." Jeyne replied. Father frowned. "Spotlight on the West." She elaborated.

"It's news network that focuses on tabloid gossip, award shows, real news out of Lannisport, and reality TV." Beth clarified. "Sometimes it throws in a movie though."

"Was this announced as real news or the tabloid gossip?" Father asked uncertainly.

Sansa looked at her friends with the same uncertainty. They hadn't said which to her either. She crossed her arms and sent them questioning looks. She would be very angry with them if they had gotten her all worked up and made her ruin her desk over gossip.

"Real news." Jeyne said, looking offended that Sansa and her father would think them so naïve as to take a gossip show's word on something so important. "Cersei even held a press conference. _Live_. I bet it's on the real news networks too by now. And President Baratheon has probably found out as well, if he didn't know already."

Sansa looked to her father with hopeful blue eyes. "Call Uncle Robert, Father. He'll tell you it's the truth." Her father frowned anxiously. "I don't feel we should bother him just yet. Let's check the news—the real news—first and see if there's any weight to Cersei's words, then I'll put a call into Robert about this whole mess."

"But Father, why not—" Sansa's words were cut off by a phone ringing. Not just any phone, though. The special "Friends and Family Only" phone Father kept next to his "Governor" phone at his desk. Father held up a finger for Sansa and her friends to be quiet a moment. He picked up the phone and held it to his ear. Father's eyes went wide as a voice began to speak on the other end. Sansa couldn't make out the words, but it was still loud enough for her to recognize.

"Yes, Robert, my daughter just informed me a moment ago—She's into all the celebrity nonsense, I don't see how that matters right now—What do you mean you can't be the father?...Once is enough, Robert. They taught us this in Junior High…Listen, this can be handled, taken care of—not like that! What I mean to say is that you should calm down. This isn't the end of the world—it is not, Robert! _Calm down_!...Wait, what do you mean an intern just pissed himself?!...Robert, Robert, listen. I want you to put the brandy down and release the intern's tie—I don't care if the intern is holding the phone for you, Robert, you can hold it yourself and let the poor boy run for his life—how do I know he wants to run for his life? Robert, you are using your super strength to hold him by his tie, forcing him to stand within a foot of you while you drunkenly rave about how bad of a…." Father trailed off awkwardly, looking at the girls and realizing they were still there. "Hold on a moment, Robert." He said into the phone, before pressing a hand to the speaking end of it.

"Girls, you should probably go." He said apologetically. All three of the wide-eyed girls nodded their heads and started towards the door. Sansa prayed she'd get it by another car in the near future. Maybe it would somehow cause amnesia and erase the last few minutes from her mind forever.

When they were a few feet from the door, however, Catelyn Stark appeared inside the frame with a confused and vaguely worried expression. She looked straight at Sansa with hints of alarm in her eyes.

"Sansa, what happened to your desk? That paper couldn't be that difficult, could it?" She asked, her auburn brows knitting together.

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><p>Her new desk was delivered to Winterfell from the furniture store a week later. By then, Joffrey being Robert Baratheon's son had become common knowledge for the entire continent. DNA tests proved it and everything. The uproar over the revelation was still in full-swing nationwide, everyone everywhere was talking about it—everywhere except Winterfell, where the only people who seemed to care after a few days was Sansa and her friends.<p>

"Arya, don't you dare so much as come near any of my posters with that marker!" Sansa shouted from the floor of her room, where she and Robb and Father were attempting to put together her new desk. Arya was sitting on her bed, watching along with Bran, with an uncapped black marker in her hand, dangerously close to her favorite posters. Arya sighed and capped the marker.

"He'd look more like Uncle Robert with a beard anyways." The nine year old huffed, regarding the poster of Joffrey with a frown. Beside Sansa, Robb laughed.

"You've got that right." He agreed. Sansa gaped at her brother.

"Don't encourage her." She said. "I don't want her vandalizing my things—I paid for that poster."

"With Father's money." Bran pointed out. Sansa reached up and ruffled his hair roughly.

"Whose side are you on?" She asked in an affectionate growl. Bran was probably the only person in the world she could never be mad at. Robb, Jon, Theon; every few weeks she'd end up yelling at them for something, mostly stupid teenage boy jokes and the fact none of them could keep their hands off her lemoncakes—the box had_ her_ name on it, thank you very much. Arya and her came to blows at least once a week, and admittedly the blame of each collision switched between Sansa and Arya on a week to week basis as well. Sometimes Arya would think it fun to pelt Sansa with food from across the table, staining her new cute clothes, while Sansa called Arya names along with Jeyne, sometimes reducing her tears. Them being mad at each other was a normality around Winterfell. Rickon was too young to get mad at very often, but sometimes his little Wolf-Outs could leave personal possessions in ruins, meaning that every Stark child, Jon and Theon included, had at one point been seething with anger, wishing the little boy were a few years older so they could at least yell at him without feeling bad about scaring him later. But Bran…Bran was Sansa's favorite, no doubt about it. She'd never get mad at him.

Bran smiled at before returning wordlessly to his book. Sansa returned to trying to figure out the directions that came with the desk. The Meerenese really needed to print less complicated directions to their furniture. Sansa sighed heavily.

"Can't we just call the place and have them send over that guy they talked about to put this together for us?" She asked.

Robb and Father sent her aghast looks. "We will not pay that man to do what we can easily do ourselves." Father asserted. Robb nodded his agreement.

"Easily? Father, they delivered the package this morning at breakfast and it is almost dinner time. We have made absolutely, like, no progress. Jory even tried to help, but had to leave the room, go outside, uproot a tree and launch it into a nearby castle wall to relieve his frustration. We tried to look up simpler instructions on the internet but everything just kept saying "Call the place", followed by several explanation points and horrifyingly relatable anecdotes about why calling the place is the answer to our problems. Robb has nearly created a tornado in my room _twice._ That window next to you is covered in a thick layer of ice _on the inside _and everyone in this room has been forced to wear a jacket or sweater to combat the temperature drop. My fingers and toes have been covered in steel for _two hours_ now. And for all our trouble,the floor of my room still looks like a lumber and scrap yard went through a merger to conserve space. Call the place, Father. _Please_." Sansa said, leveling them both with her best stern look. She knew she was probably pushing it, trying to give her father and brother orders, but honestly, her mother would do the same exact thing if she hadn't left yesterday to visit her father at his nursing home in the Riverlands.

"But—" Robb tried to protest but stopped short when Father sighed and took out his cell phone. Robb looked horrified in a way only a teenage boy could be by the submission of a male to a female.

"But Father, we were making totally about to get it." Robb complained, holding up two pieces of wood as if to make his point.

"Robb, today is an important lesson to you," Father said as the phone began to ring. Robb looked intrigued and set down the wood in his hands. "Today, you learn that sometimes, you just have to give in, let go of your male pride, and listen to reason AKA the female faction of the human species. Now go do your homework." Father ordered, pointing to Sansa's door. Robb deflated with disappointment and all but crawled out Sansa's room, probably off to homework as he was told like a good little boy. Sansa couldn't help but giggle a bit. Even when moping over his male pride, her brother couldn't help being the honest, reliable son he was.

Sansa looked at Arya and Bran. "That means you too." She reminded them.

"See you at dinner." Arya chirped, hopping off Sansa's bed. She didn't head towards the door, though. Instead, she sauntered over Sansa's dark closet, disappearing into the darkest shadows of the small room, letting them engulf her and take her Gods knew where. Sansa shivered. The sight would never _not _be creepy. It actually made her fear for her sister's safety sometimes, even if Maester Luwin assured everyone in the family that it was completely harmless.

Sansa got up from the floor and helped Bran off her bed and into his wheel chair, then helped him navigate out the door. She saw him all the way to his room down the hall and helped him into his favorite bean bag chair by the window. Summer, his dog, curled up at his feet contentedly.

"How did you get in?" Sansa wondered aloud, though she still gave the dog a scratch behind his ear. "I bet Arya let him in with Nymeria and the others." Bran said. "She hates leaving the dog's outside in the rain." Sansa had to agree with her sister there. She hated to imagine her poor Lady in the kennel, fur soaked and paws muddy, when she could be at the foot of Sansa's bed, warm and happy instead. She hoped silently that Lady was somewhere inside the main house as well. She doubted Arya would let Lady suffer out in the rain just to get at her. Her sister was many things but cruel was certainly not one of them.

Sansa's wish was fulfilled when she arrived back at her room to find Lady cuddling against her father's leg as he talked to someone on the phone, his gaze focused on a nearby window and his expression suffering. Sansa called Lady to her side with a pat on her thigh and the dog came to cuddle her legs instead. Sansa's eyes remained on her father, however, even as she petted her loyal pet's head.

"I suppose, Robert." She heard him mutter with uncertainty. "I'm just not sure I want my family or the entirety of Wintertown for that matter to be pulled into the fray." Father sighed at something said on the other end. "Fine, but I'll warn you that if Cat isn't on board, then it's a no-go, Robert." He said his goodbyes and then hang up, slipping his phone into his back pocket.

"Father?" Sansa called shyly. She was thankful for her jacket at the moment. The back of her neck and most of her shoulders had turned to steel with anxiety in the past few minutes. Father looked away from the window and at her. He smiled reassuringly.

"It's nothing, sweetling." He said. "Uncle Robert was just asking a favor."

"What kind of favor?" Sansa asked.

Father sighed and beckoned her forward. She came to him and he guided her over to sit on her bed. "You must not tell any of your friends, or even get too excited because I still have to discuss this with your mother." He began. Sansa nodded. "I promise." She told him earnestly. Father smiled, confident that she would keep her promise most likely. "Alright, sweetling, the truth is, Uncle Robert has asked to come visit Winterfell…along with Cersei, Joffrey, and all their family."

Sansa's jaw dropped and she felt steel work its way up her spin. Her legs began to quake as steel coated them as well and she balled her fists unconsciously as they turned silver. When she managed to shut her jaw, a broad grin appeared on her face. Father looked at her with worry. Just when he opened his mouth to say something, Sansa let out a squeal of unadulterated glee that made him flinch.

"I'M GOING TO MEET JOFFREY HILL!"

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><p><strong>AN: **

**Don't worry, people. The Golden Kingdom Trilogy is this Universe's equivalent to **_**Twilight**_** and Prince Leonard is basically Edward Cullen and his love interest, from whose POV everything is told is basically Bella Swan. **

**Sansa will see the error of her ways someday like most fans of **_**Twilight**_** eventually did. Someday. Someday very soon…**

**No, but really, things are probably going to take a more complicated turn from here. Like, **_**X-Men**_** stuff, guys. But for now, all I'll say is there was a reason for Cersei's sudden announcement of Joffrey's heritage. **

**Also, note, this world is more modernized, so the stigma against bastards isn't a thing here. Bastards are perfectly fine. Cersei's bastard was scandalous not because it was an out of wedlock baby, but because she was supposedly single at the time and she decided to make a big deal out of not saying who the father was. **

**Anyways, thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed this chapter : ) Please read and review. **


	5. A Presidential Visit-Part 1

ASOIAF: Mutant AU

Disclaimer: I Own Nothing.

Summary: Sansa is eleven when her powers come in.

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><p>"Pink or blue?" Sansa asked Beth, holding up a hanger in each hand, one of which was occupied by a pink dress with a summery quality to it that Sansa liked, while the other held a blue dress that was simpler but at the same time more grown up which Sansa hoped might impress Joffrey. He was nearly thirteen after all. Beth bit her lip in thought. "Pink." She finally answered. "Blue would be pandering." Sansa raised an eyebrow.<p>

"Pandering?" Sansa parroted.

"Don't play innocent. You want to look like a big girl for Joffrey." Beth teased, saying "big girl" with a smirk that would put Theon to shame. Sansa flushed and gave her friend an irritated look before twirling around to face her closet once again. She put both dresses away. She didn't want to wear either after what Beth just said. Turning back to Beth, who was sat on her bed, Sansa gave a frustrated sigh.

"Am I really that obvious?" She asked dismally, collapsing face-first into her mattress. Beth patted her on the back gently.

"Sansa, sweetling, you haven't shut up about him coming to Winterfell since your parents announced it last week. Even before that, we could all tell you were super excited about something, you just for some reason couldn't say what. And to be perfectly honest, we didn't have to think too hard on what could get you so excited. Didn't you ever wonder why no one in Winterfell was the least bit shocked by your parents' announcement?" Beth said softly. Sansa rolled over, onto her back and looked at her friend with dish plate sized eyes.

"I'm not that bad." She tried to say, feeling her middle turn hard and cold. Great, she thought, and she had been doing so well today controlling her powers.

Beth smiled sadly down at her. "You kind of are."

"No, no, I'm not." Sansa insisted, sitting up on her elbows. "I am a dignified young lady. Not a…a psycho fangirl!" She protested vehemently.

Beth made a hiss sound, the kind you would make if you saw someone trying to perform a stunt on a skateboard and they ended up failing miserably and would follow with a comment of "That's gotta hurt". Beth reached out and gave Sansa's shoulder a squeeze. "Sweetling…you kind of are." She said in the gentlest way possible.

Sansa stared at her friend as if she had just struck her, even placing a palm over her wounded heart. She felt steel cover the area as well. Then Sansa collapsed back against the mattress, her head bouncing a little as it made impact, and she stared up at the ceiling with horror.

"I'm a psycho. I am a total absolute psycho fangirl." Sansa croaked, realizing it was true. She looked up at her wall, which was utterly plastered with posters of Joffrey and other teen heart throbs, and paled considerably, silver patches appearing at her temples next to her wide eyes. "I need to take those down." She whispered hoarsely. Sansa covered her face with her hands. "Oh my Gods, Joffrey will never like me! He'll think I'm some crazy fan who's totally obsessed with him and he'll avoid me like the plague and I'll become just another one of those stupid fans he talks to his celebrity friends about on set and at award show after-parties and everyone in Lannisport will laugh at me!" She cried. Beth sighed and pried Sansa's hands from her face.

"Sansa, you dork, I was joking!" She said, rolling her brown eyes. Sansa gaped at her friend as all the steel on her body disappeared along with her short-lived abject self-loathing.

"You're terrible!" Sansa shouted, springing up from the bed and leveling Beth with a scowl. Beth only laughed.

"Oh come on, Sans, if you're a psycho fangirl, what would that make me? The Mad King reborn? I'll state the obvious: I'm not Aerys 2.0, so therefore you aren't a lunatic either. You're just a girl with a perfectly understandable crush on a movie star." Beth said, smiling widely as she stood up and strode over to Sansa, tossing an arm around her shoulder. She guided her back over to the bed to sit down next to her. Once there, Beth put on her "Big Sister Face" as Sansa and Jeyne called it.

"But really, you should tone it down a bit. This isn't going to be some red carpet event or convention where you meet him for five minutes or so to ask a question, get an autograph and a picture and then you both move on. No, Joffrey is going to be here for all of holiday break—_two weeks _of him staying here at Winterfell, Sansa, and you can't spend all that time fangirling. It's unlady-like." Beth pointed out sternly. Sansa had to agree her friend had a point. Still, stating the truth didn't necessarily resolve any of the problems that came with it.

"But how am I supposed to _not _fangirl?" She asked Beth.

"You don't have to go cold turkey. What monster would even suggest such a thing? You can fangirl for, like, the first day or two. Not too hard, of course—you don't want to sprain something—but enough to get it out of your system. After the first couple days however you should try your damnedest to act like he's just another normal kid. Treat him how you would any other boy at school. Like Alyster Acker and Ned Croft from Powers 101. You like those two, you said." Beth beamed at her own genius.

Sansa frowned at her uncertainly. "Acker and Croft are nice and I really do think of them as friends now, but they're way too different from Joffrey. For instance, Acker and Croft are mutants like me and in our grade as well, while Joffrey's a normal and older than us. And those are just surface differences, Beth. Their personalities are totally opposite as well, what with Acker being a show-off and Croft being a suck-up and Joffrey being, well, _Joffrey_. I can't think of them the same way, let alone treat them the same way!" Sansa protested. Beth shook her head at her.

"You'd think you had never watched a movie before." She muttered. Sansa raised an eyebrow at her friend.

"What are you talking about?" She asked, curious.

"Like, a third of all movies ever made teach some lesson to the viewer about looking beyond looks and family names and even fame and fortune and the importance of seeing the person underneath all of it, Sansa. A lot of those movies, unsurprisingly, feature in-universe big time celebrities who just want to be treated like normal people." Beth smirked then and leant in very close. "And don't you remember what happens when some special girl finally does treat them like a normal person and sees them for who they are rather than for their fame and money?" Sansa felt her cheeks heat up and a smile play on her lips. "They fall in love with them and live happily ever after." Sansa whispered dreamily.

Suddenly, she found herself fantasizing about Joffrey and her being like one of those couples out of the movies Beth spoke of. They'd start out awkwardly, sure, with him fearing that she only saw him for his good looks and movie star status, and her trying to see the Joffrey that he had to hide from the cameras because it would somehow ruin his reputation as a sporty socialite—like maybe he was an artist or preferred the company of books to people! But then they would discover mutual interests and bond over them, discovering new sides to each other and themselves that they never even dreamed of. They'd go on romantic miniature adventures and pseudo-dates around Wintertown, disguised as regular people to avoid the paparazzi, and a day without those flashing cameras and shouting photographers would be a dream come true for Joffrey and he'd smile and thank her at the end of the day, and before parting, they'd kiss. It would be soft and chaste and Sansa would glide back to her room in a daze. Then, the next day, Joffrey would—

Beth snapped her fingers insistently about an inch from Sansa's nose, rudely waking the girl rather from her day dream. Sansa let out a sort of dumb, "Wha?" in response. She blinked at Beth and then pouted at her exasperated-looking friend.

"I was having a nicest daydream ever." Sansa complained.

"I'm sure you were." Beth spoke as if Sansa were a five year old. "But right now, we have to pick out your outfit for tomorrow. Preferably before you're brother claws his way through your door. He's been at it for like five minutes." Sansa didn't hear the loud scratching until that very second and she let out a groan, standing from the bed and marching over to her bedroom door. She opened it and fixed the boy on the other side with a stern look.

"Rickon, I get it. You can stop now." She told the little boy firmly, looking down at him with a hand on her hip. The little fur ball standing before her grinned up at her with pearly white little fangs before launching himself into her legs. Sansa was thankful for her reflexive armor now. It covered her legs just in time so Rickon's claws didn't hurt one bit as he wrapped his arms around both her legs in a tight embrace. Sansa smiled and reached down to ruffle his shaggy black hair, which had been red at breakfast when she last saw him.

Ever since her powers came in, Sansa had become Rickon's go-to person to bear-hug and play rough with in his wolf form. She was the only one in the family who could handle him thanks to her armor. She wasn't exactly happy about it to be honest, since Rickon had already shredded two shirts and her favorite pair of jeans during their tussles, and she had never liked roughhousing in the first place, but she knew that everyone in Winterfell was grateful towards her for it. The amount of damage Rickon did to his toys and the buildings around Winterfell had decreased dramatically since he started playing with Sansa in the afternoons. And on the upside, Mother had taken Sansa shopping to replace her ruined clothes with even cuter attire, so in the end Sansa guessed it was a win-win situation for everyone.

When Rickon released her legs, his clawed hand took hers and started tugging her arm insistently. He wanted to go play, Sansa knew. "Hold on," She whispered before turning back to Beth. "Thanks, Beth, but I think I'll pick out my outfit after dinner. Sorry for bailing, but…" Sansa trailed off, eyes flitting to Rickon's furry form. Beth nodded understandingly and stood from Sansa's bed. She exited the room along with Sansa and promised to come after dinner if her parents allowed it. Closing the door, Sansa said goodbye to her friend and allowed her little brother to finally drag her off to play.

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><p>She should have worn the blue dress. Sansa cursed herself for donning the white dress with black stripes instead. She wished she had time to change but the Presidential jet had landed about an hour ago at the airport just outside Wintertown and the motorcade would be arriving at Winterfell any minute. Sansa fidgeted between her brother and her sister, wishing that she had super speed rather than super strength. It'd certainly be more useful at the moment than her super strength had ever been.<p>

"You look fine." Robb told her for the third time. Sansa didn't believe him. He was her brother; he wasn't exactly in a position to give accurate observations of anything involving Sansa. He was a biased party if there ever was one.

"Easy for you to say. All you have to do is wear a suit and tie and you're automatically presentable. Girls have to worry about a million different things. Boys will never understand." Sansa whispered to him. Robb chuckled and reached over to give her a quick one-armed hug.

"I suppose we won't." He agreed, and it was then that the head of the motorcade passed through the gates of Winterfell in all its presidential grandeur. The old House Baratheon sigil flew upon tiny flags at the head of each limousine as they entered escorted by policemen on motorbikes. Over the speakers, the instrumental of the national anthem blared. The press, which had been roped off into a section far, _far _away from where the Stark family stood per Father's orders, went nuts along with the staff and the small batch of high-profile Wintertown civilians allowed inside the castle walls for the occasion. The flashing lights, even from a distance, made Sansa blink furiously. She prayed she wasn't seeing dark spots when she met Cersei and Joffrey.

Yes, it was all a true spectacle and got Sansa's heart racing even faster than it already had been. It was everything one would expect from the arrival of the president. Well…except for one thing. One thing about it wasn't completely unexpected but still made Sansa want to burst out laughing, and glancing at Robb and Arya respectively, she knew she wasn't alone. Ahead of all the limousines, with two policemen on motorbikes on either side of him in the stereotypical black sunglasses that she assumed came with the cool motorcycle cop uniform, President Robert Baratheon rode the most ridiculously huge motorcycle Sansa had ever seen him ride before, complete with hotrod flames and his favorite leather jacket and his own stereotypical black sunglasses. Sansa didn't know a President could have a midlife crisis, but she supposed you learned something new every day. Today, for instance, she had learned Uncle Robert had purchased a new motorcycle since his last visit to Winterfell.

Sansa swallowed her laughter and put on her most dignified demeanor, chastising herself mentally for being disrespectful. Who was she to judge how the President wanted to make an entrance? She reminded herself sternly, straightening her posture even more. He was a grown man; he could make his own choices…even if they seemed like silly ones. Sansa kept up this mental mantra as she watched the President park his…unconventional vehicle and climb off it, then take off his helmet and hand it to a young man in the uniform of an intern who Sansa recognized from Life After Nobility and a few Behind-the-Scenes featurettes on the DVDs of some of her favorite movies. What was Cersei Lannister's assistant and cousin Lancel doing as an intern to the President? She wondered briefly. The question quickly fled the forefront of her mind as Robert approached the Stark family as he took off his sunglasses, revealing his blue eyes, and tucked them into the pocket of his leather jacket.

He stopped in front of her father and everyone within a hundred yards seemed to watch on with baited breath as the two just looked at each other for a moment.

"You got fat." Robert commented loudly. Sansa sent Robb an apprehensive look. She hated it when Robert greeted people with 'jokes' because it was hard to tell what was actually a teasing joke and what was a real, insensitive observation. Robb shrugged at her in response, but he smiled so Sansa guessed he was confident it was a joke.

But a minute later, much to everyone's relief, both men began laughing and embraced like the old friends they were. People in the surrounding crowds joined them in their smiling and laughing. Sansa sighed in relief. It would have been awful if some scene had been made—what a terrible impression that might have made on Cersei and Joffrey. Speaking of whom…Sansa looked at the limousine that had led the rest of the caravan, now parked just behind Robert's bike. Cersei and Joffrey had to be inside it and they'd be getting out any minute now. Sansa's abdomen turned cold and hard; her stomach sank into her left foot in turn.

"No…" Sansa whispered, looking down at her stomach anxiously. "Not now. Please, not now." She took three quick, deep breaths, hoping to will the steel away. It started to, but not quickly enough. Sansa began to panic, which she cursed herself for. Panicking wasn't going to help her. Mr. Bolton had done some individual work with her just last week in class, helping her figure out her triggers. Panic and anxiety were her worst and would only serve to make her armor spread. Robb placed an arm around her shoulder. Looking up at him, Sansa saw her brother smiling reassuringly at her.

"Relax. You hardly have any skin showing, no one can see, and besides," He grinned at her. "You have the coolest powers of all of us, so even if anyone saw, they'd probably think you were awesome." He whispered conspiratorially. Sansa felt herself mellow, the steel finally disappearing completely from her skin's surface as she smiled at Robb's words. "You are such a liar." She whispered back and they both chuckled as he gave her hair a quick ruffle and she gave him a light shove away in return.

"What do we have here?" Robert's voice boomed laughingly and then he was standing before them. Sansa blushed but still smiled broadly like Robb at their pseudo-uncle.

"Hello, Uncle Robert." Both Stark siblings greeted the massive bearded man.

"Robb, nice to see you." Robert greeted her brother cheerfully. He gripped Robb's hand and gave it a "firm" handshake that made Robb cringe. When Robert released him, Robb cradled his injured hand discreetly behind his back. Nothing new for a handshake with Uncle Robert. To top it off, as usual, Robert gave him a rough pat on the shoulder.

"You've gotten taller since I last saw." Robert observed. "You'll be almost my height in no time."

"Thank you, sir." Robb replied, trying to his best to hide the pain in his voice, Sansa knew. She was so happy she only had to deal with rough hair ruffling.

Her relief died when Robert turned his attention to her and she ended up with a hand extended her way rather than a large hand atop her head, giving her auburn locks, stiffened with hair spray, a few rough shakes. She looked between Robert's large hand and Robert's hairy face with confusion. He raised a thick black brow at her.

"Oh don't look at me like that. You can handle it," He said. "You're father called me and told me all about your powers coming in." Robert laughed and gave her a wink. "Don't worry. Doors were my worst enemy growing up too." He added in a whisper and Sansa had to smile at him for it. She reached out and shook his hand and to her own surprise, she didn't cringe one bit or feel any pain. It felt like a normal firm handshake to her, which made her smile even wider. For a moment, Sansa felt normal again.

Of course, she soon remembered who she was shaking hands with. Robert was huge for a man and was one of the strongest mutants in the nation. His super strength and lightning powers had made him a living legend during the revolution. Sansa wasn't even half his size and was young enough to be his daughter. It didn't take even a minute for Sansa to realize how obviously bizarre it was that she had enough strength of her own to withstand a handshake with Uncle Robert.

Thankfully, Robert moved on quickly from her, leaving her with a brief comment on her growth since he last saw her about a year and a half ago before he went to greet Arya, Bran, and Rickon. He was being gentle, she told herself, and really it probably not far from the truth if not exactly it. Still Sansa feigned a cringe of pain and cradled her hand behind her back like Robb for the sake of appearances. Her brother sent her an empathetic look and she looked down at her feet guiltily, feeling bad suddenly for acting as if she knew his pain.

"And you are?" A familiar feminine voice asked. Sansa recognized it from the countless movies she had watched in the past, from the Day of Dawn, the epic film-adaptation of the legendary defeat of the Others, to the satirical gallows-humored adventure Pate's Pinch, a remake of the old Pate the Pig Boy cartoon in live-action. Sansa would recognize that voice anywhere, whether it be frosty with tranquil fury or light with dainty laughter.

Sansa looked up from her feet with wide eyes.

"I," Sansa swallowed, gathering her wits with speed to rival Acker's. "Hello, Ms. Lannister, my name is Sansa Stark." She answered, extending a hand to the woman before her.

Cersei Lannister smiled and took her hand. Sansa gripped it as loosely as possible as she gave it two shakes up and down; she didn't want to crush her hand like she had Croft's when he first approached her after class, asking her to join him and Acker at lunch. She'd hate to make her idol cringe the same way Robert made Robb. It would be even worse if one of those wretched paparazzi caught a picture of it. Sansa would be mortified to be partially responsible for putting such a degrading image of Cersei out into the world.

Cersei looked over at Arya. Sansa was happy to see her sister use her manners and smile politely at the woman before them. Arya introduced herself and promptly asked where Cersei's brother was. Sansa felt her core decrease dramatically in temperature at the way Cersei's expression briefly soured before her superb acting abilities kicked in and she smiled down at Arya again. "Which one, dear?" She asked Arya.

Arya shrugged. "Either one would be fine with me. Tyrion seems really funny on Life After Nobility and Jaime is a total bad—" Arya's eyes went wide and Sansa didn't have to turn around to know Mother was giving her a warning look about cursing. Cersei looked amused as Arya tried to salvage her sentence so to avoid punishment.

"Don't strain yourself, I know what you mean. My twin is quite the athletic specimen, no question." Cersei said and she nodded towards the motorcade. Standing next to one of the motorbike cops chatting idly was Jaime Lannister, clad in the white uniform of the president's security force, formally known as the King's Guard. Sansa couldn't help but admire Jaime's good looks and how he made the simple white military uniform look almost as grand as the old uniforms for the King's Guard. He looked even better than on TV. Sansa looked away to prevent further blushing.

Arya beamed at Jaime with unbridled glee. "Can I meet him? I want to see if his gun looks anything like it does on the action-figure." Her sister exclaimed. Sansa looked at Arya with surprise. Father didn't let any of the Stark children have an action-figure of Jaime Lannister. His was the only one missing from both Bran and Jon's collections of the Robert's Rebellion historical figure sets. Father said he wouldn't allow his children to treasure a doll made in a dishonorable Kingslayer's image. Sansa had to bite her tongue to prevent herself from reprimanding Arya and asking where she would have even seen a Jaime action-figure up close enough to see his tiny gun.

Cersei shook her head, much to Arya's visible displeasure. "I'm afraid the guns on those toys are very different from the ones used these days, dear. It's been years after all since the rebellion and technology has progressed by leaps and bounds." She explained. Arya frowned up at her.

"What about Tyrion?" She asked.

Cersei's green eyes flickered with displeasure, Sansa noticed uneasily.

"Arya," Sansa said, cutting in before Cersei could reply. "Now isn't the time to badger Miss Lannister. I'm sure we'll meet her brothers later on. Just be patient for a bit longer, okay?"

Arya heaved a sigh. "Fine." She then skipped away to Father's side to greet Jon Arryn and Aunt Lysa, leaving Sansa with Cersei. Sansa smiled at her idol sheepishly.

"I apologize if my sister was being annoying. She's a tomboy, so she gets excited about things like the president's security force and professional athletes. You should have seen her when Barristan the Bold came to Winterfell with Uncle Robert last time he was here. She was so excited that just looking at her grin hurt my own cheeks—she was a bit disappointed that your brother didn't come though. He's never been to Winterfell, you see." Sansa explained.

Cersei nodded, looking over at her twin brother once again. "I am not surprised. My brother usually visited me when Robert paid visits to your family. At your age, I'm sure you know the reason why." She said, smiling thinly at Sansa.

Sansa returned the gesture, knowing she was referring her father's rather public dislike for her brother. It had been the cover story of newspapers and tabloids in the past, that was how well known it was. It was perhaps the only thing besides her brother Jon that had ever gotten the tabloids leeches and sharks in a bloodthirsty frenzy over her father.

"Tell me, Sansa," Cersei began with a glint in her eyes that made Sansa wary all of a sudden. "How do _you _feel about my brother?" Cersei asked quietly.

Sansa struggled to conjure an answer. Her first instinct was to repeat what her parents had always told her—he was dishonorable in what he did to the Mad King. He took a vow, he should have kept it like a good soldier. Instead, he turned traitor to save his own skin. Sansa had been told those things all her life and had come to agree with them. True knights and good soldiers didn't break their vows or betray their leaders and fellow men for their own gain, she knew. But Sansa was talking to Cersei, Jaime's twin sister and her idol. She couldn't call him dishonorable in front of her of all people. Sansa didn't want to lie, though; so what was she to say?

Sansa answered with the first ambiguous reply that came to mind.

"I don't know him, Miss Lannister. How could I properly say how I feel about someone I don't know really?" She answered Cersei, who regarded her with a hint of surprise before smiling broadly.

"How right you are, little dove." She said, tucking a strand of Sansa's auburn hair behind her ear.

"Mother?" A voice spoke up to their left. Sansa and Cersei both turned in that direction and Sansa's breath caught.

"Joffrey, come meet the governor's daughter." Cersei said, touching her son's shoulder and bringing him closer to her side. "This is Sansa Stark." Cersei said, gesturing to Sansa's wide-eyed form. Sansa forced a smile, hoping it looked genuine instead of scared or awkward because she felt both at the moment as well as a healthy dose of pure happiness. She desperately tried to ignore the cold hardness that encompassed the entirety of her torso under her clothes.

"Hello, Sansa." Joffrey greeted her with that winning smile of his that had appeared on hundreds of movie posters and billboards as he extended a hand towards her.

"Hello, Joffrey." Sansa replied, shaking his hand with a loose grip. Oh Gods, she hoped he didn't notice how sweaty her palms were.

* * *

><p>Closing her bedroom door behind her, Sansa let out a dreamy sigh and slumped against it. She would have to call Jeyne and Beth and tell them all about the party. It had been everything she had dreamed. She and Joffrey had spent the afternoon and evening glued at the hip. They had talked and talked all through the party. Hours on end were spent discussing Joffrey's acting career and life back at Lannisport and on Casterly Rock. They even talked about Joffrey's parentage and how he had reacted to the news. Joffrey said he had not known of his parentage growing up and been surprised by the announcement but eventually embraced the bright side of things. How noble, Sansa thought as she collapsed into her swivel chair by her computer and pressed the power button.<p>

She needed to blog about this, that way Beth, Jeyne, Acker, Croft, and all her other followers could find out simultaneously how wonderful the last six hours of her life had been.

She typed in a dreamy haze for twenty minutes before publishing it. Within a few minutes, it received several Likes and comments from her various friends and associates at school.

Beth commented: "**You go, girl! ; )**"

Jeyne said: "**Im sooooo jealous!1! JK Im happy for you, Sansy!**"

Acker of course decided to put gif of Tyrion Lannister rolling his eyes with a snarky caption in white letters of "**Do I look like I care?**" something clearly not said by Tyrion in that screenshot because Tyrion's lips were too busy with his wine and his mind would have thought of something wittier and more backhanded. Still, Acker saved himself from being a total jerk by commenting in parenthesis's under the gif that he actually was happy for her and to get him an autograph sometime for his "kid sister".

Theon made a comment as well surprisingly. It was such a rare occurrence that Sansa at times forgot that he was even one of her followers. At the same time, it also made her regret begging him to follow her back when she first got a blog and had so few that she would have been glad even for him to be one of her followers. Theon's comment teased her about her crush.

Sansa promptly deleted it with extreme prejudice.

It was as she watched the comment disappear with a satisfied smile that there was a knock at the door.

"Come in!" Sansa replied, eyes never leaving her computer screen as she refreshed the screen to see more comments.

Her door opened and soft, babyish voice behind her spoke. "Sansa?"

Sansa turned in her swivel chair to see Rickon standing in her door sheepishly.

"I'm sorry, Rick, I can't play right now. It's too late and we both need to get to bed." She said apologetically. Rickon shook his head and approached her with an uneasiness that Sansa had only seen in him once before, when during one of his Wolf-Outs he swallowed her pet goldfish and came to apologize to her for it. Sansa sincerely hoped he hadn't come to tell her he had eaten Lady. She was in too good of a mood to mourn the loss of her beloved pet or deal with her brother becoming a demi-cannibal.

Rickon climbed into her lap and clung to her. Sansa wrapped her arms around him, happy to find he didn't have his claws out or stink of wet dog at the moment.

"What is, Rickon?" She asked softly.

"I heard somethin'." He replied into her neck.

"A monster?" Sansa ventured a guess. Rickon shook his head.

"No, it was Daddy and Uncle Jon." He said. "I heard 'em with my special ears talkin' in the corner during the party." He explained, referring to his enhanced hearing. It was one of his abilities that stuck with him even when he wasn't wolfed out. Sansa frowned disappointedly at her brother.

"Rickon, you know you aren't supposed to eavesdrop. Mother and Father told you if you hear something you're obviously not supposed to that you should walk away immediately and completely forget about what you heard because it's none of your business." She reprimanded him. Honestly, he should know better after what happened last year when he ruined Arya's surprise birthday party.

"I did walk away!" Rickon protested vehemently before reverting back to his previous tail-between-his-legs state. "But not before I heard somethin' scary." He added in small voice.

Sansa looked at Rickon with concern. "What was it?" She asked.

Rickon looked at Sansa with fear in his eyes. "I heard Uncle Jon say that he and Daddy were in danger." He confessed, his bottom lip trembling.

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><p><strong>AN: Ah, glitz, glamour, and near unattainable standards of beauty—the stuff Hollywood runs on. So will this story from here on out. I don't known exactly how long, but I have several things in the story to cover before this stuff falls into the background. **

**Fun-Fact: Sansa's powers were inspired by Colossus of the **_**X-Men **_**franchise, aka Piotr "Peter" Rasputin. **

**Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Next chapter I will introduce a lot more characters as well as some new mutant powers. If you have any ideas for mutant powers for characters, I'm always open to new ideas and would gladly credit you for the idea. **

**Again, thank you for reading, and please review! **


	6. A Presidential Visit-Part 2

ASOIAF: Mutant AU

My Armor

Disclaimer: I Own Nothing.

Summary: Sansa is eleven when her powers come in.

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><p>"Rickon," Sansa started out gently. "I need to repeat word for word what you heard." She looked at her brother with worried eyes, hoping against hope that what he was about to tell her was complete nonsense straight out of a cartoon. Rickon looked down at his feet timidly. "I don't remember it all." He mumbled. "Just tell me as much as you can." Sansa insisted. Rickon nodded and proceeded to tell her all that he had overheard.<p>

It was surprisingly simple. So much so that Sansa had a hard time believing it was fiction.

Rickon had been hiding under a table, hoping to elude their mother's efforts to put him to bed, when he overheard their father's familiar voice addressing Jon in harsh whispers. "What do you mean, Jon?" Father whispered to their uncle. "What I mean is that Stannis and I have our suspicions that something is amiss in this whole affair. We cannot discuss it here and now, or even tomorrow, or the next day. Do not ask me about it either. I will reveal my suspicions to you only when the coast is clear." Jon Arryn whispered in reply. "Why? Is the threat really so great?" Father asked. Uncle Jon didn't reply for a long moment that made little Rickon whimper under the table. He was only three, but he knew that when adults went quiet like that, it meant something bad. "More so than I could say here, at this moment. All I can do is tell you to watch yourself, and your family. We all may be in grave danger." Jon finally said, and then Rickon slunk away to play with Shaggy Dog up in his room for the rest of the evening. Rickon wrestled with what he heard for a long time before deciding to come to his big sister to reassure him every thing was alright. Which she did.

"Don't worry about it, Rickon." Sansa whispered, rubbing comforting circles in her baby brother's back. "I'm sure Uncle Jon was exaggerating some political junk. You know how Father is always saying people blow things way out of proportion, right? Well I bet Uncle Jon is just as guilty of that as the media."

"Promise?" Rickon whimpered.

Sansa forced a smile. "Come on," She said, standing from her chair and taking her brother's chubby hand in hers. "I'll read you a story before bed." Perhaps a knight in shining armor could keep her brother's as well as her own thoughts far away from what he had overheard that night.

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><p>The next morning, or rather late into the night, Sansa awoke before the sun rose and crept out of her bedroom on the balls of her feet. She turned on no lights as she sneaked down the hall, past her siblings' bedroom doors and multiple guest rooms. Even though she most likely wouldn't get in trouble for being up at such a late hour because it was holiday break, Sansa's heart still hammered in her chest as she skulked like some fiend—or worse, <em>Arya<em>—through the dark, stony halls of Winterfell to the tower in which her parents' bedchambers resided. Sansa had to fight tooth and nail with her instincts to keep her armor from appearing. The last thing she needed was for Rickon to hear her steel feet clinking against the stone floor and believe an old suit of armor had come to life and was haunting the keep. Once was bad enough.

She climbed up the staircase to her parents' room carefully. There were no real lights in the staircase, so she had to be careful otherwise she'd put a dent in her head falling down, armor or no armor. She felt along the wall to keep herself steady, and even then, she was sure she was about to take a tumble backwards at one point until she miraculously regained her balance. The only light came from the little red dots of the security cameras mounted here and there up the staircase. Sansa hoped whoever was manning the cameras tonight had fallen asleep, if only so that word didn't get out she'd been sneaking around the castle in the night. What a horrible impression that would make on Joffrey and Cersei!

Reaching her parents' bedroom door, Sansa knocked twice. When no answer came after a few moments, she knocked again. Again, there was no reply. So, taking a deep breath, Sansa opened the door and slipped inside her parents' bedchamber of her own accord. "Daddy?" She called out softly. In the darkness, there was a masculine grumble and a feminine groan. Sansa sincerely hoped she had only just woken her parents rather than…She shooed that thought away like a dog begging for scraps at the table and made note to stop sitting next to Theon at breakfast.

"Sansa?" Mother yawned. A lamp lit up and the room was illuminated by a soft golden glow. Sansa blinked furiously at the light, having become accustomed to the darkness. "What are you doing up?" Father asked, sitting up in bed along with Mother. Sansa flushed, realizing suddenly she didn't know what to say to them. She had come to ask them about what Rickon said, hoping for their reassurance that everything was just fine, but a part of her belatedly warned her that even if things weren't fine—Gods forbid—her parents would say they were. That's what parents did, right? Lie to protect their kids from the truth. Sansa quickly formulated an excuse. "I had a nightmare." Unfortunately, it wasn't a particularly good one.

Father and Mother looked surprised, then suspicious. "Sansa, you haven't come to us after having a nightmare since you were eight." Mother pointed out. Sansa shrugged her shoulders. "I-It was a bad one." She stated simply, not quite forcing the tremble in her voice. Father sighed and climbed out of bed. He lifted the sheets and blankets and gestured for her to crawl in. Sansa did so with a grateful smile and curled into her mother's side. She closed her eyes contentedly.

"No fair!" A voice cried out. Sansa's eyes snapped open. Arya stood on the other side of the bedchamber with crossed arms, messy hair, and a disgruntled frown. "Why does Sansa get to sleep with you?" She asked Mother and Father, who sighed tiredly. "She had a nightmare." Mother answered. Arya looked doubtful. "Sansa never has nightmares. She doesn't watch scary movies and all her dreams are about Joffrey and lemoncakes." She stated matter-of-factly. Sansa would be hurt if it weren't very close to the truth. So instead of protesting, she asked her sister, "Why are you up?"

"I heard you pass my room. You aren't as quiet as you think." Arya explained. "I followed you from the shadows. You couldn't see me right behind you—it's because of me that you didn't break your neck getting up here by the way." She continued, smiling. "That was very nice of you, sweetling." Mother said tiredly. "But you should be getting back to bed. We have an early start tomorrow after all."

Arya pouted. "But I want to stay. It's not fair that Sansa, the so-called big girl of the family, gets to sleep between you still."

"Arya, if you want to sleep with us, just ask." Father yawned. Arya smiled and did just that—minus the actual asking part. She just climbed right in next to Sansa. It was a tight fit when Father followed shortly, but it was warm, and Sansa had to admit that despite it not being part of her initial plan, the current situation wasn't half bad.

Father set the alarm a half hour earlier than previously intended, citing the fact that Arya and Sansa should get back to their own rooms before other people around Winterfell started waking up. Then Mother turned off the lamp, once again shrouding the room in darkness. Sansa drifted off back to sleep with her mother's arm slung around her shoulder and her little sister half on top of her. Her father's snoring was like a lullaby.

She was gently shaken awake a scant hour or so later and sent off with Arya back to her room. At the bottom of the staircase, Arya turned to her and asked in a whisper, "Why did you really go up there?" Sansa feigned ignorance. "I had a nightmare." She lied. "Oh yeah, what about?" Arya pressed, already wearing a smug triumphant smile. "Bugs." Sansa said, spouting off the first noun that came to mind. Arya's smile faltered, but then returned with a mischievous edge. "What happened?" She asked. Sansa's mind rushed. "They were…crawling all over me, pinching and biting, and…" What else did bugs do? Sansa wondered hopelessly. "Stung…tickled…"

"You didn't really have a nightmare, did you." It wasn't even a question. Brat, Sansa thought, irritated. "Why did you really go up to Mom and Dad's room?" Arya whispered.

Sansa sighed in defeat. "Rickon got in my head with something he said earlier."

Arya gave her a look. Like she smelled like dung or something. "A baby who still wets his own bed at night sent you running to Mom and Dad's? What did he say?"

Sansa shook her head. "It's nothing. He just got me worried is all. He heard Father and Uncle Jon discussing politics. I think he blew everything out of proportions." She said.

Arya chewed her bottom lip. "If you say so." She mumbled, and with that, she walked right into the shadow cast by an old decorative suit of armor in the hall without so much as blinking. Sansa shivered and hurried off to her room.

She never did manage to fall back asleep.

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><p>The next few days were less socializing and more of a constant parade of photo-ops for the media around Winter Town and the surrounding metropolitan area. Sansa welcomed it. All the attention kept her mind off Joffrey just enough that she was sure after the first week that she didn't make a fool of herself in front of him or Cersei. Best of all, she adjusted to his presence enough not to fangirl out on him at every turn. She'd also managed to make a good impression on him with her handling of all the media attention—at least according to Beth and Jeyne, who were stalking all his social media accounts, as well as his mother's, in hopes of gauging their enjoyment of their visit so far.<p>

The monuments and museums seemed to bore Joffrey senseless, they found, so Sansa suggested a trip to the golf course a few miles outside of Winter Town. Joffrey liked golf. Sadly, her plan backfired when Uncle Jon suggested the trip be a guys only sort of thing. Father-son bonding time, he said, and thus Sansa found herself waving off her father, older brothers, uncles, cousin, and crush that morning with a thinly disguised frown. Alyster Acker and Ned Croft arrived an hour later, and with them as well as Beth and Jeyne, Sansa went to the all-mutant park downtown.

They had to climb over the stone walls encircling the park however in order to avoid crossing the picket line at the main entrance and escape the minor media attention it was garnering. It was nothing compared to the attention her family and their guests were now getting, but the day before they arrived in the North, Sansa would have considered it a circus.

The mutant park was a bit of a civil rights issue, as Sansa's mother had put it when she explained to her for the first time why mutants had a park to themselves and yet mutants still complained about equality. Some mutants, and even some allies to the mutant community, thought of the mutant parks all over the nation as survivors of the segregation era of Westeros, when mutants and normals weren't allowed to interact under many circumstances because mutants were considered "dangerous". Father said that the park was different from separate schools and bathrooms though because the park was where mutant kids could go and practice their powers in a safe environment and play without fear. It existed for the same reason Powers 101 existed, he said. Sansa still didn't know what to think. Both sides had their points, so she guessed there was a reason mutant parks were such an active field of debate in media, even after fifteen years of government and social reforms.

"Are normals even allowed in the mutant park?" Jeyne asked as she shimmied down the tree they had all used to climb down the top of the wall. "Normal parents come to the park all the time to watch their Mutant kids, and so do older siblings." Acker explained, helping Jeyne down. Sansa nodded her agreement. "Back when I thought I was Normal, Mother used to bring me along when she brought Arya, Bran, and Rickon here. Theon used to come with Robb and Jon here too before his own powers came in." Though it had been rather embarrassing for him, Sansa knew. Theon had been a Late Bloomer, like that older girl from Powers 101; when he'd blow up half the pipes in Winterfell that fateful morning, he'd absolutely glowed with pride and tried to call his family back on the Iron Islands to tell them the news. They never answered, but Father and Mother made up for that by taking Theon out for a nice dinner that night to celebrate. "Just stay in the safety area—the benches and tables over by the jungle gym." Sansa told her friends, pointing over at the towering plastic and metal structure that a dozen or so mutant children currently played on.

Sansa didn't like the way Beth's eyes scanned everything warily, but at least it was better than the outright fear in Jeyne's. "Safety area?" Jeyne asked. Croft explained dryly, "In a park where a scraped knee is the least of a parent's worries, there kind of has to be a place where they know something won't blow up if little Billy throws a temper tantrum." Jeyne went pale and Beth scowled at Croft. "Be serious. Why is that area any safer than a regular park jungle gym and picnic area?" Acker pointed at a sign near said areas. 'Lanniscorp', it read. If Sansa remembered correctly, that was the company that the Lannister finally established after the monarchy was abolished and they could no longer depend on taxes from their vassals and their mines to pay for their luxurious lifestyles. It had since splintered off from a simple luxury items manufacturer into several other industries, including weaponry, pharmaceuticals, and even network television. Tywin Lannister ran his company the same way he ran his political campaigns—brutally efficient. "Courtesy of Lanniscorp: a new failsafe system that cancels out powers. They installed it right in the jungle gym, so everything with fifteen yards of it is basically a No Powers zone. The rest of the park is free game though, as the charred remains of that tree over there indicates." Acker enlightened them all, turning it forefinger over to said tree.

"Wait! Since when is a powers-canceller even a thing?" Jeyne asked, obviously confused. "Why wouldn't we have those in school or in other public places?"

"You need to watch the news more, Jeyne." Sansa said. "This was all over the news last year when the technology was first perfected. They first implemented it in the Westerlands—and I think you know why—and then other cities and towns all over the continent wanted it in their own parks, schools, or even everywhere. It went straight to the National Directory where Uncle Robert and his council debated the issue before finally declaring that the technology could be test driven in mutant parks, establishing safe zones for Normals in the park or small mutant children." Sansa remembered her father being really tense about the issue. He didn't want power cancellers in public places. He thought it'd be a step backwards in the movement for equality. He'd been glad with the compromise that Uncle Jon had thought up. Jeyne flushed with shame. "All that happened? Really?" She asked. Croft scoffed. "If you were a mutant or a mutant family, you would have known every single detail about the debate. If things had gone the way those anti-mutant politicians and Lanniscorp had wanted it, then mutants would have been sent back to the days of Mad King Aerys. I like the current arrangement a whole lot more as you can imagine."

Jeyne and Beth said no more and settled themselves at a picnic table where they could watch Sansa and the boys in a grassy field close by. Sansa made sure to take off her nice coat and leave it with the girls. Mr. Bolton had assigned a project of sorts to her class to do over break. They were to practice their powers out for "functionality", as he put it. He insisted they be done at the mutant park closest to the school.

"What does functionality even really mean?" Croft asked as he took off his own coat and cast it aside. "To be functional, I believe." Acker remarked, plopping himself down on the ground. Sansa reluctantly joined him there, hoping all the while that her jeans didn't get dirty. Croft gave Acker a dirty look. Hoping to stop a fight before it even began, Sansa threw in her own input, "I think he wants us to test how our powers would work out in a…" She hesitated with the words. "combative situation." Croft and Acker looked at her as if she'd spontaneously grown a beard like Uncle Robert's. "The chapter in our text books we were studying before break was about the use of mutants in the military. The army is always looking for mutants with powers that could be useful in war, more so than the navy or air force." She explained herself. Croft and Acker nodded their understanding.

"Great use of context clues." Acker remarked.

"I'd completely forgotten about that chapter." Croft mumbled with a grimace. "Gods, he'll probably give us a test on it the second we get back from break too. And I left my textbooks in my locker dammit!" Acker laughed at his friend's pain.

Sansa smiled thinly at the boys. "I don't know how we're supposed to begin." She shyly mumbled, feeling her cheeks heat up. Acker smiled broadly at her. "It's simple—we just spar a little. Like the guards at Winterfell do or the boys in the martial arts club!" He said. Sansa had watched the guards with powers mock battle each other once or twice. It never really interested her as much as Arya and Bran, and she certainly didn't ask for lessons from them like Theon, Jon, and Robb did. From her few and far apart viewings, she had learned only that they always used a lot of gear to prevent actual injury and that Jory liked to swing people around by the ankles like some sort of demented fair ride.

Sansa told Acker she didn't like fighting—not unless it was in the name of valor or something else heroic. Soldiers fighting she was okay with; _her_ fighting or other people fighting just seemed kind of crude. She wondered if it was even legal for Mr. Bolton to give them this sort of assignment, but then she remembered it was Mr. Bolton and the class he was teaching was known to have mortality rates at other schools across the nation. "It's okay—me and Croft will go first." Acker replied, waving a dismissive hand. Croft balked at him. "Wait, wha—sonavabitch!" Croft growled as Acker tackled him to the ground, sending the two of them rolling like a ball of limbs across the grassy field. Sansa quickly scurried back over to Beth and Jeyne a safe distance away. Her two friends were watching the boys fight with a mix of surprise and glee.

"What happened?" Beth asked, a tiny smile on her face as she watched the boy roll around in the grass, growling and shouting obscenities at each other, completely forgetting that they were supposed to be using their powers for this assignment. Sansa sighed and explained the assignment to her friends, at which point Beth and Jeyne grew exceedingly pale.

"What is it?" Sansa asked, concerned.

Jeyne gulped, as if swallowing a blockage in her throat. "Didn't you say that there was some kid in your Powers 101 class who liked to blow stuff up?" She croaked.

Sansa felt metal consume her torso, suddenly recalling the charred tree Acker had pointed out earlier. "Oh no."

As if waiting for his cue, like they were some bad comedy really, on the other side of the park, a tall evergreen went up in flames and maniac laughter filled the air. The park keepers rushed to put the fire out before it could do any real damage beyond frightening a few Normal mothers who weren't quite used to the spontaneity of the park yet. Sansa watched with horror along with Beth and Jeyne as a single figure stalked past the hose-wielding park keepers with his hands causally tucked into his pockets. It was Ogden, and unfortunately, he spotted her. Sansa rushed out of the safe zone without thinking, wanting to keep him far away from Beth and Jeyne. Too late did she realize she should have let him come into the safe zone—it was safer for all of them that way.

"Good morning, Sansa!" He greeted her like a good friend when in reality she tried to avoid him. He took _far _too much joy in the destruction his powers wreaked in her opinion. Still, Sansa was anything if not polite. "Good morning, Ogden. Finishing up your assignment for Powers 101 I take it?" He wasn't. She didn't need him to answer to know he was just here blowing things up for the fun of it. "Nope. I come here every few weeks and practice with my powers." Ogden replied genially. "Why, are you?" He asked excitedly. Sansa nodded her head and pointed over to Acker and Croft, who now were actually making process with their powers, Acker using his sticky fingers and speed and agility (his "bug powers" as Croft aptly named them) to dodge the fists and kicks Croft was attempting to send his way. Odgen's eyes lit up at the sight in a bad way; see, Ogden's eyes glowed when he got excited, which happened a lot.

He turned to her with a grin. "We should spar too!" He suggested. Sansa felt her armor extend down her arms instantly. She struggled to conjure up an excuse, a lie, anything to be able to decline Ogden's offer. She didn't want to spar with anyone, let alone the walking bomb standing before her. "Well, I'm sorry, Ogden, but I sparred already with Acker." She lied. Ogden's eyes didn't dull a watt. "Yeah, but that was unfair." He protested. Sansa's forced smile faltered with surprise. "_Unfair_?" The words tasted foreign. "Steel crushes bugs any day of the week. But explosives versus steel—now _that_'_s _a match up people would pay to see!"

Sansa felt suddenly very hollow as her steel skin crawled down her arms and legs to her toes and fingernails. _Steel_. A simple element had just been used to sum her up. Many people might have taken that as a compliment, being called steel, but really, it wouldn't have hurt more or less if she had been called a bug like Acker, or an explosive like Ogden. Sansa wasn't even quite sure why Ogden's words stung, but they did.

Ogden grinned at the sight of her steel peaking out from under her clothing and there was a crackle and a pop in the air between her and him as a heat began to build and waft off of Ogden like a putrid stench. He must have taken it as a silent challenge, she realized, and frightened, Sansa shoved the boy away with all the force her mutant strength provided.

She ran out of the park, out of the main entrance even, paying the press and protesters shouting at her no mind. The cold didn't even bother her much; she'd grown used to it thanks to her armor. She eventually had to stop running though and walked back to Winterfell, which was in the very middle of the city. The guards let her right in and she entered the main building with every intention of going upstairs to wallow for a bit. However, she never got past the main hall, where dozens of people were gathered, including her Father, Uncle Robert, and Mother, who was comforting a weeping Lysa. Robyn, her little cousin, stormed towards her and squeezed his arms around her as he wept.

Sansa attempted to comfort the crying boy as she looked over his shoulder at her father and asked, "What happened?" Father looked grave. The last time he had looked so grim, it had been when the Greyjoy Rebellion broke out. "Jon collapsed while we were golfing. We rushed him to the hospital, but…" He trailed off. Sansa couldn't help it as she began to tremble and hold her cousin tight like some doll to her chest; her body turned steel, head to toe. All her worries born from Rickon's words a week ago suddenly returned with a vengeance unmatched by any God or Goddess ever known.

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><p><strong>AN: I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Sorry for the long wait. School has been rough. **

**Please review! Feedback is always appreciated and makes my day!**


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